Chameleon
by GreyWolfandMoon
Summary: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were hailed the future kings of the red carpet. The two had never met before until they auditioned for the same role for Potter Co.'s upcoming romance film. Only then Sirius realised that Lupin might be a stronger rival than he expected - sweet at times, cold when necessary. The man was a chameleon. Remus/Sirius.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: no profit was made. **

**Rating may change over time. **

Part I

Sirius looked into the mirror and decided that more gel to his hair would only be appropriate. As he combed back his hair, he bared his teeth to make sure that there was no food slipped between his teeth. After somewhat an hour, he straightened his back, admiring his dapper form: the argyle bow-tie, the navy blue tuxedo, the leather oxfords all complimented his good looks. He looked like a posh gentleman from the 19th century – no, more like a prince directly walked out of the Buckingham Palace. Any girl, any man, any human being, any living organism would be swooned. He, Sirius Black, was the living embodiment of _perfection_ itself.

As one of the rising stars of the film industry, Sirius had really done more than enough for an audition when hundreds of producers fought to get him sign their contracts. Still, he wouldn't mess up his chances by appearing arrogant (not to the public at least). He handled every audition with care, just as what his mentor Moody had taught him about humility and constant vigilance in the volatile entertainment sector, not to mention Sirius really did want to get this particular role in the upcoming film produced by Potter Co., which was led by his good bro since childhood, James Potter.

'Hiya Lily,' Sirius pressed a kiss to the cheek of a woman with dark red hair. He had arrived thirty minutes early so that he could have a bit of chit-chatting with his longtime friends before the audition. Not that he was nervous, but he really wanted time with them; he had come to realise that life wasn't quite the same when one rose to fame.

'If Lily had agreed with me, you wouldn't have to go through this lot of trouble already,' James hugged Sirius tightly. As the co-producer of the film alongside his wife, James could've easily appointed Sirius as the leading actor without the auditions. After all, he had inherited enough money than half the industry combined; profit was not his concern; fun was. This was a film he made with friends and for friends only.

'Now, now, James,' Lily knocked on her husband's forehead playfully. 'Screening and auditions are essential to a film, it's always good to include more people before we decide who plays who, and we don't even know if Padfoot here finds the role suitable yet.'

Sirius grinned at the school day nickname. 'It's okay, Jamie, Lily's right. I need to try things out first. You know me.'

James shot him a pointed glare. 'Remember to actually make a decision after trying. Chances can run out, you know.'

Sirius sighed. He didn't need James to clarify what he was talking about: they were yet again on the topic of Sirius's love life. He knew James's intention was good, but this whole dating thing was truly a pain in the arse. Not that Sirius was a playboy, but he hadn't settled for a longtime partner since he left school. Every now and then, James and Lily would introduce people to him. It was needless to say that their effort had so far been futile.

'… have you heard?' Someone clapped on his shoulder and shook him out of his trance. Peter Pettigrew, the camera operator, had joined the little group and was smiling widely at his friends. 'Big time for you two to meet, eh? I'm sure you will beat him, though I love his performance in _The_ _Rising Legend_. '

'Who?' Sirius had no idea what Peter was babbling about.

'Remus Lupin, of course,' Peter said without hesitation.

'Oh,' Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. Together with Sirius, Remus Lupin was hailed the future king on the red carpet. They were often compared side by side by reviewers, their fans ranged from old men that could barely walk to punk girls with glittering earrings. Their names never appeared on magazines without the other; yet Sirius had not met the other man in real life for once. _So he's here too, competing for the same role_, thought Sirius. That was understandable though: Potter Co. was a big enough company in Hollywood that nearly every film they produced was a box office success. It was the straight road to the Oscars.

'People say he's got a bit of temper,' Sirius said thoughtfully.

Peter nodded. 'A bit aloof, yeah,' he said, 'but otherwise he's okay, I hear.' He had mouth and ear all over the industry, so Sirius chose to trust him.

'Good luck, Pads!' James said, and Sirius returned his bear hug fiercely. 'The crew goes in before the actors. So… see you in ten minutes, yeah?'

He nodded and waved goodbye. After his friends deserted the room, he decided to use the loo for the last time before his interview. Adrenaline flooded his veins, the familiar feeling he got every time when it was time for him to shine, yet exactly why he was nervous he couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe it was the thrill of challenging himself despite his fame? Maybe it was the pre-audition anxiety? Or, maybe it was the excitement of having a face-off with a major rival?

He absent-mindedly stared at the mirror, hands going up to stroke his hair again to smooth any stray hairs. Humming a tune, he turned around – and collided with another man. The man tumbled backwards, his right hand trying to hold on to the brim of the glass sink.

'Oh!' Sirius gasped, catching the man's hand and steadying him after some struggle. 'Sorry!'

The man breathed heavily. He had smooth brown curls and a lean body. Despite his lankiness, his slight slouch made him half an inch shorter than Sirius. Once he looked up, numerous scars on his face made their appearance under the light, and his teeth were slightly crooked with one of his canines jutting out like a fang. Instantly, Sirius recognised this familiar face as no other than that of Remus Lupin's, his biggest rival and enemy in today's audition.

'Hi, I'm Sirius.' He re-extending a hand after Lupin had steadied himself. 'That probably wasn't the best way to shake hands, I'm very sorry. So, here we go again?'

'Hello,' Lupin replied, his gaze a tad too sharp for a first-time meeting, showing that he, too, had recognised Sirius at once. He took Sirius's hand, but Sirius couldn't help but notice the rigidness of the gesture and the lack of a smile on Lupin's face. This was a stark contrast to Sirius's friendly deposition and attractive grin that got him so many fans in the first place.

'I suppose so. But thank you,' said Lupin at last.

'Right,' Sirius retracted his hand after quite a lengthy handshaking, and Lupin released it without hesitation. 'So, er, I'll see you at the audition?'

Lupin nodded without a word, and Sirius left the bathroom a bit too hastily than was necessary. He didn't know what possessed him; the normally articulate, calm, confident Sirius Black was a complete mess in front of his supposedly mortal enemy. Unspoken hostility hung in the air, setting up the premise for their confrontation at the audition.

* * *

Sirius groaned the first thing he entered the audition room. Sitting right beside the camera was a sallow man with greasy hair parted at the middle, his little black eyes glittered maliciously when they landed on Sirius.

'What the fuck, James,' Sirius cursed under his breath. On the far side of the room, James looked at him apologetically and shrugged. Lily cast them a reprimanding glance and crossed her arms. The rest of candidates began to file in, sitting in the waiting area next to a clear area where the crew was at. There were a few acquaintances who Sirius knew from other films, and they all greeted him with cheerful nods and smiles. Lupin was in somewhere in the middle, ending up three seats next to Sirius on the row in front.

'Good morning everyone, I am Lily Potter. Welcome to the audition for our new film, _A Story under the Moon_. I thank you on behalf of my husband and the whole Potter Co. for your interests in our film.' Lily smiled and pointed at the men behind her. 'May I introduce today's judging panel: James Potter, my husband'– James winked and this attracted a round of applause –'Peter Pettigrew, our camera man' – Peter gave a salute – 'myself, Lily' – the crowd laughed – 'and Severus Snape, our director.'

Sirius swore again. _Of all people, why Snape!_ They had been enemies in school, and never really got along even after they parted ways. Every time James and Sirius rounded on Snape, he would escape like a coward he was and Lily would come forward to protect her BFF. Upon leaving school and going to uni, Lily and Snape had remained close friends, and James had become a lot softer on Snape after he and Lily were officially together. Occasionally, James and Sirius would still make fun of Snape when Lily was not here, but James no longer explicitly showed hostility towards the slimeball anymore. Inviting Snape on the crew must be Lily's doing, and Sirius was angry that James allied with Lily instead of his long-term best friend.

Lily was still talking as she accepted a pile of papers from Peter. 'This, as we all know, is the audition for the male protagonist, Miles, but our selection is not limited to the main characters. If we find your performance match our expectation but more suitable for other characters, we might invite you to be our other characters. So, if there are no questions, I'm now going to distribute the script…'

The scripts were passed between the candidates. It was a two-paged script for Miles and his girlfriend Samantha, and it was a scene in which the two characters argued and made up at the end.

Lily cleared her throat. 'Right, everyone got the script? Great. Our audition will be held as follows: each of you will pair up with another candidate, and each of you will be Miles while your partner will be Samantha, and then you reverse your roles. Though you are provided with the same lines, you are free to interpret it however you want as long as you speak the same words as written on the script. We want to see the best of you, and this is to create a realistic feeling of arguing and to help you get into the mood better. Now, I'll give you a few minutes just to familiarise yourselves with the environment and, more importantly, find your partner. We'll start the audition when I call upon the first candidate.'

Candidates stood up from their chairs and started chatting with each other. Sirius maneuvered himself among the crowd, nodding and saying 'hello' politely from time to time, but no one asked him to be their partner. Lupin was apparently in the same situation; many had greeted and shaken hands with him but no one asked. He was a lonely island in the sea of pairs.

Sirius's spirit fell. He understood well that this was the price of fame – he was widely recognised, he won every award, but as a result no one wanted to be real friends with him. And when it came to jobs, no one wanted him aside because he would outshine them. That was what his mentor had warned him long ago; it was only now that Sirius actually found some of his teachings useful.

A few seats away, Lupin seemed completely unbothered, if not bored; he sat motionless in his seat, the only sign of him being anything more than a statue was his legs making occasional kicks into the air.

'Hey,' said Sirius good-naturedly. He tried his best not to sound awkward, which was when his acting talent came into play. 'Wanna be partners?'

Lupin turned to look at him, his expression as blank as ever. 'If you say so.'

'Ha ha,' Sirius's laugh was odd and squeaky. Lupin raised an eyebrow.

'I didn't expect it would make you that happy, or else I'd have asked you myself sooner,' he said dryly.

'I suppose that would be nice.' Sirius shrugged. So far Lupin had appeared mostly emotionless and quiet, and that was the exact opposite of Sirius's boisterousness. How did he even act, if he was dead like a rock most of the time?

After somewhat an hour later, Sirius heard his name being called. He tapped Lupin on the shoulder, who eyed him blankly and got up after him. For the last time Sirius couldn't help but wonder how Lupin was hailed the rising star when in real life the bastard was as cold and as emotionless as a stone.

_Please behave_, Sirius prayed silently._ If you don't want the chance, at least don't muck it up at my expense especially when Snivellus is here._

Lily led them to the clear area where a table was put in the middle with a few bottles of vodka and fruit, and the actors were to perform in this makeshift kitchen. Sirius closed his eyes, letting anger and desperation took over him. The second he opened his eyes, he was no longer Sirius Orion Black, but Miles who were caught in an argument with Samantha, his cheating girlfriend. His gaze hardened, and the grey pupils were a boiling storm, capable of drilling holes on the unfaithful creature.

'Where were you yesterday?' Sirius hissed at Lupin across the table, the tumbler in his hand was threatening to break. His voice was low but dangerous, and from the periphery of his vision he saw James nodding in approval.

Lupin said nothing in reply. Instead he started pacing around the table slowly and towards Sirius.

_Say your line, bastard,_ Sirius screamed in his head, his pretend-anger becoming real. _Say 'I was at Tim's, I'm sorry.' Be the guilty girlfriend. Shed some tears. Just act normally. What are you playing at?!_

Maybe Lupin had forgotten his line, or maybe he was simply messing with Sirius. By the time he had sidled up to Sirius, the distinct smirk on his face was impossible to be ignored. Sirius heard Peter squeak beside the camera, and he inhaled heavily to suppress the urge to slap Lupin right in the face. But of all things he expected, pressing against him and purring in his ear was definitely not one of them:

'I was at Tim's,' purred Lupin, his breath tickling Sirius, 'I'm so, so sorry.'

'W…Why?' Sirius's breath hitched, his hand automatically going around Lupin's waist. An inner voice screamed that his anger shouldn't have subsided so quickly, but his body said otherwise. 'You were supposed to be with me, you know that?'

'I know, babe, but…' Lupin pressed closer, his hands going up and wound themselves around Sirius's neck. A blush tainted his cheeks, and Sirius could feel his _other body part _responding rather inappropriately in a supposedly heated quarrel.

'But _what_?' He pushed the other man away and sat on the table with a_ thump_, shielding his erection from James and Lily and Peter and _Lupin_, for god's sake. 'But WHAT?' He said through gritted teeth, willing himself not to turn around to look at the devil that might melt his heart in a second if he did.

Suddenly he felt a hand pulling him backwards, at the same time someone snuggled into the crook of his neck across the little table. He swore when he felt nibbling on the bare skin of his neck accompanied by a sob: 'But I was lonely, Miles… You never c…come home at night. You work till midnight and go before dawn. I miss you… a lot… Don't you know that, Miles?'

'I…' Against his better judgment, Sirius's hand shot up to squeeze Lupin's on his neck and turned around, pressing his cheek against the sobbing actor. 'I didn't know, Samantha. I… I'm sorry.' He leaned in deeper, his lips just a few centimetres from Lupin's –

'Cut!' James's booming voice interrupted his fantasy. Lupin rolled away from him, a single tear still hung at the corner of his eye. A smirk was tugging at his thin lips, suggesting that the tears and sobs were actually the result of swallowing his laughter in Sirius's neck. Sirius slapped himself on the thigh and cursed James and himself and Lupin and God and everything in between under his breath. This was an utter insult to his professionalism as an actor. He felt humiliated, embarrassed and ashamed.

'Brilliant!' said James again, and Peter nodded enthusiastically at his side. 'Brilliant! My God, Padfoot, you really outdid yourself this time. You too, Mr Lupin. This was a whole new way to act this scene. I loved it.'

'T-thanks,' Sirius breathed and held himself together. The warmth from Lupin's body lingered on him, the memory of what just happened was still fresh in his mind. He shot a stealthy glance at his friends and hastily turned away when he saw Snape was turning at his direction, a sneer apparent on his face. He must've known what really happened; and that made him the only person in the room who saw Sirius become completely turned on and manipulated like a puppet. _Wanker._

His head jerked up when Peter's cheery voice came behind him: 'Now why don't you reverse your roles? I can't wait!'

'The fuck you can wait, Pettigrew,' Sirius muttered. In his mind he had already planned eighteen ways to skin Peter alive the next time he saw him. When he got up and prepared himself, Lupin glided past him casually and stood at the spot where Sirius did as Miles, picking up the tumbler. He was thin, almost sickly, and Sirius felt himself redden when he thought of Lupin's version of Samantha._ Stop fantasising_, Sirius scolded himself. It was time for revenge. Lupin would get his consequence for messing with him. But what if all he could do when acting was snuggle and purr and –

'_Where were you yesterday_?'

A growl shot straight into and out of him that the orange he was playing with dropped and rolled to the opposite side.

'I… I…' Sirius spluttered. _What the fuck?_

'I said,' Lupin hissed, enunciating every word, 'where were you yesterday?'

Sirius's mouth finally got the message to move. 'I w-was at, at Tim's…' His tear glands, being so well-trained, took the cue and helpfully secreted a stream of tears. He dropped to his knees, hands clutching at Lupin's trousers. 'I'm sorry, babe, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…'

Lupin batted his hands away. 'Why?' He said gruffly, but the tightness in his voice suggested that his tear glands were just as busy. 'You were…' he took a deep breath before he spoke again, 'you were supposed to be with me, you know that?'

'I know!' Sirius shrieked, 'but –'

'But WHAT?' Lupin kicked over a chair, and Sirius fell back at the same time, startling himself (and the crew, he thought smugly). Just as he was about to stand up, Lupin charged and clutched at Sirius's neck with both his hands. 'But wha –'

'I was lonely! For fuck's sake, Miles!' Sirius screamed at the top of his lungs, legs kicking under Lupin. 'You never come home at night! You work till midnight and go before dawn! I _miss _you! A lot! Don't you know that too, Miles?'

'I…' Lupin faltered. His nose was blotched from fake crying and _laughing_ at Sirius, that motherfucker. Before he could react, Sirius grabbed his face and kissed him hard with a loud smacking sound. His lips were chapped and a bit dried, quite unlike Sirius's smooth ones, so he stuck out his tongue and wetted the lips like licking an ice pop. Lupin tensed as a crimson blush took over his cheeks, but he did not pull away.

'Well,' said Sirius softly as he pulled away, enjoying the view of Lupin's eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs, 'don't do that again.'

Lupin was still frozen when Peter's cheers broke through the room: 'James! Lily! This was… sensational! I … Woah! There's no word to describe it.'

Sirius wiped his lips on his sleeve. He could hear his heart thrumming against his ribcage._ Take that, Lupin,_ he grinned smugly at the other man, only to discover that he was avoiding looking at him. _Scared now? Who the fuck are you to fuck with me in the first place?_ But then he thought of the kiss just now, and he reddened so much that the warmth on his cheeks could burn the whole building down. Did he just improvise a kiss on a fellow actor … for a role?

'Wow, mate,' James recovered as he picked up his dropped jaw from the floor. 'Wow. You okay?'

'Yeah, I mean, very,' Sirius took James hand and stood up. 'Samantha's quite the girl, eh?' he commented lamely.

'That's exactly why I can't be an actor like you,' James chuckled. He lowered his voice and said against Sirius's ear, 'to be extremely honest, you and Lupin's performance was the best all day. I can almost be sure that you would get the role.'

'Or Lupin would,' Snape's silky voice called from behind, and James and Sirius whipped around to glare at the intruding man.

'But I wouldn't be surprised if he quits before we release the result,' he sneered and gestured at the exit where the door hung half open. 'And the paparazzi would trail after him like ghouls, sucking for the juicy story of why he quits.'

Sirius shot him a dirty glare. When he looked around, there was no trace of Lupin in the room, and he and the crew were all that were left.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius was still somewhat shaken by what happened in the audition a few days after. It was like no other audition he'd had, and it would definitely remain the craziest one. As much as he was mortified to even think of that day, he was in awe of Lupin's performance. Now he understood why that man was hailed the rising star alongside him. Probably better, if he had to be honest with himself.

What Snape had said haunted him like a ghost. He had been watching the news with a wary eye, expecting himself on the headline: 'SIRIUS BLACK, A SEXUAL PERVERT', or 'HERE'S WHY BLACK GETS EVERY ROLE HE WANTS: BY SNOGGING THE HELL OFF HIS RIVAL', or anything catchy title that would immediately warrant the ruin of his career. He checked his inbox every few hours, afraid to see his manager contacting him for dealing with the lawyers. Would Lupin snitch him to the public? Would Lupin sue him? To be fair, Lupin wasn't entirely innocent either – if anything, he was the one who started the whole kissing act! – but what the other people perceived from the outside was Sirius snogging the hell off Remus Lupin, not how Lupin provoked (_seduced_, said Sirius's mind) the other man.

All things aside, this proved to Sirius that this Lupin man was a very intriguing subject. He decided to know him a bit more through the internet so that when Lupin finally decided to strike, he would at least have something to defend himself. He started with simply googling 'Remus Lupin'. To his dismay, the more results he got, the more confused he became. He had been hunching over his MacBook for three hours already, his Google search bar full of _Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin background, Remus Lupin childhood_, but not a thing he found matched the other. This article here reported about Lupin's childhood in Jamaica where he lived with his rich grandparents; a celeb biography there gave out the scoop about Lupin's secret family lineage from the Royal Family; and the exclusive news on some nameless tabloid was so outrageously untrue – '_Remus Lupin is in Fact a Werewolf under Human Skin_' – that anyone with two brain cells could would in no way believe it. It seemed that Lupin had never repeated a single story to the public. They could all be fake, or they could be a mix of truths and lies, but there was one thing for sure – they could not all be real.

The Lupin search went on for half an hour more before Sirius finally gave up. In all honesty, he already had more than he needed if he were to stand up against Lupin; one thing he learned in the entertainment industry was that public attention deflects easily. If he threw out Lupin's mysterious background, the paparazzi would go after him instead, and Sirius only had to sit in the background laughing his arse off and waited for harvest. Still, Sirius was more than willing to dig into the man's life. After all, they were rivals. And they say you can only beat your enemies if you know them well.

His own life story was a stark contrast to Lupin's. From since he was a newborn, he had been living under the public eye: when he was born, where he was born, to whom he was born, which school he had gone to, during which the functions he had attended and friends he had made. And of course there came the breaking chapter – his running away from home. But even though he was disowned on paper, in people's eyes, he could never be more connected to the famous Black family. Since then he had lived at the Potters, got a job here and there while muddling through until he was discovered by an agent outside a bakery when he was using the few pennies he had to buy a cake for James's mum. He was subsequently involved in some really big films with some really big names and of course people were blown away by his acting (and face, no doubt) and that was how he rose to prominence. Yes, life was that miraculous, and it was just as simple as that. To him, the ups and downs of life were easily the same thing. Born rich, got low, and there he got up to the top of the world again. Fifties years from now he would be sitting on a chair with grandkids around him and he would tell his story with pride, of how he conquered life with dignity.

He stared at his search history with scorn. Imagine having to lie to everyone you meet about who you are as a person! What was it that Lupin had done in the past that made him a permanent storyteller? In Sirius's opinion, he was as much a coward as a mystery. If he hadn't the courage to share his life with the public, then he wasn't ready to be a celebrity. He did not deserve fame.

An idea sprung up. Sirius began searching in the pile of paper he dumped in the corner of his study in earnest. There were posters, invitation cards, news clips – anything he took home, had a quick glance but hadn't bothered to throw out yet. A fruitless search had resulted in him making tea to calm his British nerves, and then he went for another pile and continued searching. At last he dug out a dusty, crumpled business card which belonged to Galaxy Investigative Agency in a bold, striking font, underneath which a contact number was listed next to the person in charge. Sirius hesitated a moment before deciding to dial the number using his private contact.

There was a click of someone picking up the phone on the other end, but there was no greeting. Sirius took a deep breath.

'Good afternoon, Regulus.'

He exhaled slowly, clinging onto the name which he hadn't spoken in years. There was still no reply, but at least Regulus didn't hang up, which Sirius half expected him to. Taking this as an encouragement, he took another deep breath and said into the speaker: 'This is Sirius. You might already know. Sorry for bothering you – I apologise– wouldn't have called if it wasn't absolutely necessary –'

'Funny it was necessary this time, after all these years.' Regulus didn't even put on the posh façade of admonishing by using flowery language and backhanded accusation like how his mother taught him. Regulus's voice had changed: it was no longer squeaky and awkward like Sirius last remembered, but mellow and smoothing. A man's voice, Sirius realised. A little bit too soft maybe, but nevertheless a gentleman's voice. Regulus had grown from a twitchy teenager into a young man that Sirius never got the chance to know.

Sirius wasted no time in beating around the bush either. 'I didn't mean that,' he said. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva before he continued, collecting himself. Once again he sounded unbothered and haughty, the way his mother trained him to be. 'Regulus, I need your help.'

'How surprising, I did not see that coming.' Sarcasm was dripping off Regulus's voice. 'The mighty, spectacular, clever, extraordinary Sirius Black has come to his spineless baby brother whom he hasn't spoken to for three years for help. What can I help you with, sir?'

That was the last straw for Sirius. The eight years that he left home were undeniably the happiest years he had ever lived, but it also left him oblivious to the things that happened behind the thick, black oak door that led to what he once called _home_. The only thing he knew was that his mother had kicked the bucket not long after he was gone, just like their father did many years ago, and Regulus had (been forced to?) surfaced from the depth of aristocracy and wealth and started his own business. It wasn't a business funded by a few billions he easily threw out from under his pillow, as far as Sirius knew, but a business that no investors had been particularly interested. It was only in the past one and a half year that he had gained reputation and become now one of the biggest company of the market.

'I know I've put you in a …difficult position, but will you please help me with this, Reg?' The childhood nickname slipped out. Sirius bit his lower lip in frustration. After all this time, he was still too haughty, too angry to say 'sorry', even though he himself had a part in it. 'I swear once it's over, I won't bother you anymore. I–'

'Please call me Regulus,' said his brother. There was not a hint of joke in his voice. 'And this is a business only phone call. I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment. So, what can I help you with?'

'Right,' answered Sirius, making sure he voice didn't crack. 'I need you to find out everything you can about Remus Lupin.' When he felt the other end still, he added hastily, 'I'll pay you double. Triple, if you wish.'

'Thanks, but I can get by just as well without charity,' said Regulus, and then a long string of mechanical beeps ensued. Sirius just stood there, phone still in his hand, and suddenly he remembered he made tea.

* * *

Sirius clutched his phone tightly. Dizziness caused by the vibration of his phone never left him; he was still shaken by James's message.

'Hi, Padfoot,' Peter opened the door. He looked a bit weird, but very excited. 'Come in, come in!'

Sirius managed to smile, but his muscles tightened involuntarily. James never texted him like this – what did he mean by 'we'll sort things out in my office'? Did he get the role? Did anything happen? Did his worst fear come to reality?

He was going through the glass door when he spotted Lily in the opposite way, leading Lupin behind her. He froze.

Lily waved at him and gestured for him to hurry. Lupin halted for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. But he collected himself just in time and hurried after Lily.

The first thing Sirius saw was James sitting on his sofa, a pile in his hand and reading. Snape was on an armchair just next to him. His beady eyes darted back and forth like he was planning something. Sirius did _not_ like it.

'Mornin',' Lily closed the door after Lupin, who sat down just next to Sirius on a couch. 'Let's start.'

'So,' James cleared his throat. There were sparkles in his eyes. He looked like he was devising a prank in their schooldays; Sirius was sure something was _happening_. 'First of all, I cannot help but applaud you for the sensational performance last time. It was truly one of the best auditions I've ever seen,' said James sincerely. He coughed again, and this time his voice made a detour to its higher, stronger range. 'You both did very well. But as you know, there's only one Miles and one Samantha. This is exactly what brought you here. There's something I wanted to discuss with you.'

'Just spit it out already, Prongs,' said Sirius tightly. He was so nervous that he felt like imploding. 'It's okay if you wish to cast Lupin. You don't need to hold a meeting just because your best mate doesn't get the role,' he said as he flashed James a weak smile. He didn't tell James that there was something bigger behind that made this meeting his nightmare.

'Easy, Black,' commented Snape from the side. His lips were upturned, looking very smug. 'There's no lawyers, no court cases involved. It's just the casting we're discussing.'

His eyes were gleaming. Sirius let out a sigh of relief and immediately straightened himself and looked right in Snape's eye. The slimy bat surely knew what he was talking about, and he made no attempt to hide it that he was enjoying every bit of Sirius's discomfort.

'It was a very hard decision. Not just because we had to choose between you but also between the two versions of Miles. I have to admit that Remus's interpretation was not something we thought of, and the more we think about it, the more interesting it becomes. We could see potential there.'

'I understand, and I agree,' said Sirius truthfully. He tossed his phone and wallet into his backpack. 'Congratulations, Lu – Remus. Think I'll just…'

'No, there's something more.' James gestured for him to stay still. 'Needless to say, your performance was equally stunning. Yes, it stays true to our original character design, but it doesn't mean it's anything less than excellent.' He then separated the pile in half before he said again, 'So here's what we've decided, and there's only one more thing we need' – he looked at Sirius and Lupin squarely, a hopeful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth – 'that is, your mutual consent. Will you agree to be cast side by side as a couple in the film? We'll make you Miles and Sam as in Samuel. As I said, you have _great chemistry_.'

Lupin looked stunned as his eyes widened. For some reason, Sirius felt tingles all over his skin.

'I agree,' he said before he knew it. He closed his mouth abruptly. The enthusiasm was a tad jarring to his ears, and he was ashamed.

James nodded approvingly and turned to Lupin, whose eyes were wide and bright, the amber pupils reflecting the office light. Sirius's heart was pumping madly in his chest, echoing Lupin's increasingly quick breathing.

'That's a very bold decision,' he said at last. 'The public can be very… unaccepting.'

'Indeed,' Lily piped up. 'And more representation is exactly what we need most in the industry.'

There was another round of silence. Sirius heart had almost sunk to the bottom when Lupin said again, 'Thank you. You're right. I'll take it, then.'

James's face split into a wide smile. 'Good, that settled it then. I've never felt more excited about a new film. Now, here're your scripts and terms and conditions…' He gave out the two piles he sorted out earlier. 'Take it home, look through it again and we'll give you the official contract and schedule. If there's no other problem, then we'll see each other very soon.'

He shared a knowing glance with the rest of the crew. A breeze of hope and gladness swept through the office as a great project started to bloom. Sirius found himself moving and packing without his realising, his mind wandering everywhere but there. He was about to walk out when Lupin asked, 'Who's Miles and who's Sam?'

A spark shone through James's hazel irises. 'That, my friend,' he smirked, 'is to be sorted out between yourselves.'

* * *

_Hey, u wanna play Miles?_

_Hi, this is Sirius Black. You decided yet?_

_Maybe u can be Sam lol u were so gd _

_Lmao I cant choose eith –_

Sirius's thumb hit the home button in a violent jerk. He thought for a few seconds, and then opened Whatsapp again, and decided to at least put down the missing 'er' so 'eith' became 'either' and he wouldn't look like an illiterate wanker. Then he considered adding 'xxx' and swiftly ditched the idea. It wasn't not like Lupin would suddenly find replying to him worth his while just because Sirius added a few imaginary kisses, seeing that his first three messages had sunk to the bottom of the sea and never got dug out.

He then texted James, got no reply, and he was so annoyed that he proceeded to ring nonstop until James finally picked up the phone. Impatiently, he said there was no rush in deciding the roles and asked if Sirius would be so kind as to shut the fuck up when he was having a good shag because asking about Lupin at this moment rather killed the mood.

'Fine, fine, I'm an attention whore and I'm about to die from the lack of it,' mumbled Sirius to himself after James hung up.

He was going to take a bite from the freshly baked croissant he ordered when he spotted a familiar figure among the tables. Longbottom's was a delicate coffee shop round the corner of the street Sirius lived on, and because Sirius lived in a fairly discreet neighbourhood, away from all the chaos and stalking and crazy fans, it was uncommon to run into people that were not his acquaintances already. Except Sirius had now bumped into his biggest rival, colleague-to-be and the most needed guy on his list at the moment, Remus Lupin, here, at Longbottom's, Sirius's private domain. And in Lupin's hands, silvery grey around the edges and lighting up his face from below, was his bloody mobile phone.

Sirius triple-checked his inbox, making sure that Lupin had indeed ignored his messages all-together before he took action and caught him red-handed.

'Hello,' he said, pulling out the chair opposite Lupin's and sitting down uninvited.

Lupin looked up in surprise. His phone slid from his hands, and Sirius caught it deftly.

'Thanks,' said Lupin, a bit breathlessly. There was a dash of pink across his cheeks, and when Sirius blinked, it was gone as soon as it had come. Lupin's face was a peaceful lake with no ripples or waves, mirroring Sirius's relaxed haughtiness. 'Didn't see you there. How do you do?'

'Fine. Oh well, why does our meeting always start with something falling? Here, here.' Sirius laughed heartily, handing Lupin back the phone which he so wanted to crack it open this instance and see where his messages had gone. 'I'm a sucker for Alice's apple pies. I don't suppose you know Alice? And Frank? We went to the same school. Good old times.' He tried not to sound too obvious that he was marking his territory. If Lupin were to be rude, then he needed to know who the boss was here, as old-school as it sounded.

'No,' Lupin smiled. Sirius realised it was the first time he saw him smile when he was not acting, and he was struck by how sweet and genuine it looked. The crooked canine caught the afternoon sunlight, and it only added to his charisma. But then Sirius remembered why he was here, and he quickly shoved Lupin's charisma to the very back of his mind.

'Haven't had the chance to meet Frank yet. Alice is a charming lady,' Lupin continued. He pocketed his phone and looked around, taking a sip of his mocha and apparently, _enjoying life_, which was the last straw for Sirius because he just couldn't stand the humiliation of being purposely ignored and taunted right in his face.

'So, um, Remus, have you got a decision already?' He forced a calm voice.

Lupin's gaze was forced torn from the bright sky outside and wandered back onto Sirius reluctantly. 'On what?'

'Our roles,' said Sirius patiently like a mother explaining why the sky is blue to her five-year-old. 'We need to sort out who plays who in the film. I sent you a few messages about it. I thought you'd have given it a thought already.'

'Did you?' Lupin seemed genuinely surprised. He tapped on his phone, tossed it around a few times and randomly opened and closed some chat apps in a few seconds' time.

'I use Whatsapp,' said Sirius, still very patiently. He began to wonder whether Lupin knew what Whatsapp was.

'Oh. Let me just…' He finally opened the correct app and was scrolling through the inbox page. He looked positively confused; clumsy, even, which should not be the case because it was the 21st century and even a newborn knew how to use a phone.

_Mind you, he's an actor_, Sirius reminded himself, _an actor who almost snagged the role away from me._ Willing his waning patience to stay in place, Sirius took out his phone. 'Well, bugger me if I texted the wrong number.'

To his dismay, Lupin let out a snigger. He caught himself in time and hid it promptly.

'I got it from James,' Sirius said defensively, his colour rising.

'No, that's my number alright.' Lupin waved a hand, the ghost of a snigger still on his lips. 'Just, next time you find me, use this number instead. That's the public number, and I don't use it often.'

As much as Sirius hated to admit it, he felt a little bit hurt. He most certainly did not appreciate it when he gave out his most private number (to James) and got a public, almost fake contact in return, and it was his colleague whom he would be with day and night for the coming year or two that he gave the number to.

'Really,' he said dryly, handing out his phone for Lupin to enter his contact, 'do I have to write letters next time?'

'I don't mind that,' said Lupin. Just as he was entering his number, he slipped his own phone back into his trouser pocket – an iPhone 8, Sirius noticed, and added as he caught Sirius's gaze, 'I don't use mobiles very much at all. They give me anxiety.'

Letting out a snort, Sirius took his phone back, the name _Remus John Lupin_ added to the contact list. Maybe it was the coffee, or the strawberry cake, or the boring presence of Lupin sitting across him and exchanging only pleasantries, Sirius was a bit dazed. Soon Lupin was draining his mug and standing up, and only then did Sirius break away from his trance. 'Well, it was nice to meet you. I must get on. Tell the Longbottoms I said hi?'

He waved until Lupin was out of sight, and suddenly he realised that he hadn't discussed the roles with him yet, nor did he get his address to send letters to.


	3. Chapter 3

_Draw lots? _

**_Fine by me._**

_K. Don't let James know. _

_Actually it doesn't matter. He can know. _

_Lol I'm about to click on the random draw button. __Nerrrrvous af. _

_You still there? _

_Hey_

* * *

'What's got your knickers in a twist?' inquired James. 'You look like a kicked puppy.'

'Typical of him,' said Peter, dipping the dumpling into the soy sauce. They were in a Chinese restaurant, with Sirius just arriving a minute before. Instead of answering directly, he asked, 'How's the film going?'

'I should ask you that. Ah yes, _mm goi sai _(thank you),' Lily smiled at the Cantonese waitress, accepting the teapot from her, 'we can start once you've decided your roles.'

Sirius stuck out his lower lip, which earned him a playful smack from Lily.

'What's with that grimace?'

'That's one for you,' said Sirius peevishly. 'Lupin's not giving any fucks. I asked him what he wants to play and he'd rather drink mocha and eat croissant. Honestly, why did you ever think putting us together would be a good idea?'

'Ah, the attention deficient syndrome again, I see,' Peter nodded learnedly, 'who didn't reply this time apart from Lupin?'

'Me.' James raised his hand sheepishly. 'But Padfoot, you must understand that –'

'You and Lily want a child, yeah, I'm not objecting,' Sirius cut him off. 'I'm just saying, who came up with the idea of starring me and Lupin in the same film at first? 'Cause the double act is not working.'

Lily patted him consolingly, filling his teacup with oolong tea. Sirius was never a fan of oolong tea. He preferred Longjing instead when it came to Chinese cuisine. But never mind, he was not in a mood for food anyway.

'I didn't know you had issues with Remus. He seems a nice guy.' Sirius quirked an eyebrow. 'It was Severus's idea, actually,' she continued to say, and if Sirius didn't have a heart attack when she described Lupin as 'nice', now he certainly did and he almost flipped the whole table over.

'_What?_'

'It was Severus's idea,' Lily enunciated, looking at him squarely in the eye. 'Look, childhood grudges aside, I think he really meant to help. We both see potential, don't you agree, _James_?' She shot a glance at her husband just as he tried to lean forward and mouth whatever only he understood to Sirius. At her calling, he sat back and nodded. 'Yeah.'

Lily tutted, and he said again, a bit more truthfully, 'Yeah. I mean, I didn't like it at first, but I reckon it'll work out well.'

'Work out well my arse,' Sirius muttered. He looked down at his phone; there wasn't a single notification from Whatsapp. His last message was sent out an hour ago, they were agreeing on drawing lots and suddenly Lupin went offline and disappeared into thin air. If that was 'working out', well, then Sirius had never encountered failure in his life, not with his running away from his family and leaving his little brother with their sick mother behind. 'Truth is, it wasn't already well the first day we met. And I don't think any of us here know what kind of person he's like. It's not like we worked with him before,' he added.

'Which explains my enthusiasm.' Lily looked him squarely in the eye. 'We never worked together before. Great! A whole new beginning. Your chemistry is explosive.'

'That's not true. I think he's more than just what he showed us. Maybe he's, y'know, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. I don't know what I'm talking about, it's just that… it's not that simple.' Sirius felt rather than saw his friends roll their eyes. Words eluded him; there was something about Lupin that warned him he was not the just the slightly-awkward-but-good-at-acting person he presented himself, and that was only made obvious when they were involved in each other's acting. His friends, who were all standing at the side, probably saw no more than two actors performing. 'I think you really need to do some fact checking. Who he was before he was famous, what he did, that sort. For all I know I never heard of him four years ago while I was already working for Moody, and people actually recognise me. I have every right to be arrogant. He does not,' he said.

'Oh yeah, background matters. Says the one who grew up in the Black family.' Lily frowned. 'You're tired, Sirius. Let's finish this quickly and go back to sleep.'

She then reassured him that everything would just be fine. Peter echoed the Potters about 'working out well', which was already lost on Sirius the more times it was repeated, so he sat moodily, eating only when James got him food, and the night wore on.

* * *

After a series of back-and-forth messaging, Sirius inserting countless LOL and LMAO and OMG in between which he didn't really meant it other than them basically serving the function of punctuation and Lupin making excuses and stalling, it was settled that Sirius would be Miles and Lupin would be Samuel, originally Samantha. The whiny one; that was how Sirius called the role. He looked forward to how Lupin would play Sam, a character so entirely different to his own personality, but then now Sirius thought about it there wasn't really anything Lupin didn't dare _not_ to do. Giving Sirius a cold shoulder for no reason at all, for one.

That was perhaps why Sirius literally felt his eye sting when he set sight on the brown-haired man as he walked in, his flip-flop flapping lazily.

'Why, didn't realise people wore beach shirts to weddings now,' Sirius remarked, putting a hand on his bowtie, dabbing it lightly. It was expensive fabric. Sirius liked it very much. He even wore it for James's wedding.

Lupin looked up, his ridiculously gaudy yellow-rimmed sunglasses covering half his face, and Sirius could only see his reflection, darkened and slightly distorted on the curved glasses. Lupin slid a pile which presumably was his script for today across the table. 'There was a schedule change.'

'Really?' Sirius was skeptical. Last he checked (which was 3 am this morning), they were scheduled to shoot a wedding scene where Miles and Sam first met. But here Lupin was, dressed in a billowy flower shirt and briefs with a grass hat. Despite their recent history, which had not been particularly pleasant, Lupin didn't struck him as being the sort who pulled stupid pranks as leisure, and Sirius had every reason to believe it wasn't as such.

The message from Snape proved him right. At 7 am, Snape sent an email to the production crew, announcing the last-minute change with the producers' permission. Sirius had been snoring his arse off, which of course had rendered him uninformed of the change.

'Manager having a day-off?' Lupin enquired.

'Things from James don't go through my manager,' Sirius gritted his teeth and said again after a beat, 'by the way, you and your manager do communicate _well._'

'How well?'

'Well enough to bring you the news in less than an hour,' said Sirius, checking his watch. The hand was pointing sharp at eight.

'He calls on a different line,' explained Lupin.

'_He_?' Sirius blurted out and caught himself immediately. 'I mean, _a different line?_ How many numbers have you got?'

As if the second question went unheard, Lupin studied his nails and said lazily, 'You should meet Brian someday. I'm sure you'll like him.'

'I'm sure I will. Though, right now, I'm more interested in maintaining effective communication between_ us_.'

Lupin took off his sunglasses slowly and cocked his head in amusement. 'Surely you know as well as I how privacy works in this field?' When Sirius gave no reply, he added, less idly this time, 'I just happened to get his call this morning. Nothing personal against you. That's my private I gave you, it's just that I'm not a people person in general.'

Sirius was mumbling 'I can see that' just as Snape's assistant went over and handed him his surfboard and trunks. As he trudged away with heavy strides, he saw Lupin salute him in his peripheral vision. Crossly, he turned his head away so as to derive the other man of any satisfaction from taking the piss and save his dignity as best as he could.

* * *

Days and weeks passed uneventfully. Lupin was still the bastard he was. It wouldn't have bothered Sirius the least bit if people would stop talking about them. It annoyed him to no end; comparing two people they were each bright in their own ways was one thing, being talked about the same way with the people you disliked was another thing. And it wasn't even fair to begin with – the rumours that surrounded Sirius (such as him pushing his mother off the building, hence killing her) on top of his background naturally put him in a bad light. It was in this atmosphere that the carefully balanced relationship between him and Lupin – not hostile, but certainly not friendly – was tipped over.

It was in the resting room. Because there was no one else except Lupin, and because Sirius was genuinely bored, he took a sip from his mocha, the unique taste of coffee lingering on his tongue. 'Classy.'

Lupin seemed taken aback, lifting up his head from the book he was reading. When he saw that it was Sirius, he nodded. 'Nice coffee.'

'I'll get you a cup if you like?' Sirius said. Out of politeness, of course.

All Lupin said was 'No, thanks' before he went back to reading.

Sirius took another sip. Silence spread between them, Lupin's ease and Sirius's awkwardness forming a weird contrast. It was literally the Whatsapp scenario playing in real life, with Sirius pretending to be talkative and Lupin leaving on him read. The only difference was that there was no longer a screen where Sirius could bring all his discontent with him and hide behind. He leaned across the table, pushing the coffee under Lupin's nose. 'You sure you don't want one? They're offering a half price. You don't get that often. Well, maybe you will if you don't give them the silent treatment.'

'Maybe I simply don't like coffee,' Lupin replied with a bite of annoyance.

Discontent became anger. Sometimes, Sirius wished he could bite his tongue but he was truly losing it this time. 'Really? I'm not surprised though, since no one really knows anything about you.'

This seemed to be an instant trigger for Lupin. There was a fire burning in his eyes, a fire so bright that it couldn't have possibly been just fuelled just recently. 'As if running away from home is any better,' he fired back, 'your mum was sick and your brother was young.'

'And what do you know?' Sirius all-but shouted. Lupin's words hurt deeper than he'd thought, probably more than what Lupin intended. Sirius's heart wrenched despite all these years of self-numbing and persuasion that he had truly put this behind him. Once a Black, forever a Black. He knew it, yet he thought he had worked hard enough to wash off the stigma. It turned out that one small spot on a white paper stung as hard as a big one. Lupin here, who knew him just weeks ago, was standing on the moral high ground and criticising like he knew shit.

'It's judgmental people like you that make things difficult. You read, you talk, you gossip, you spread fake news – but you never know what actually happened in that awful place –' Sirius gasped for air. Thinking of Grimmauld Place alone suffocated him. 'You don't know anything. So shut the fuck up, play the good colleague you are and get this over with. I don't want anything to do with liars like you.'

'Fair point,' Lupin hissed after some time, apparently recovering from hyperventilating incurred by some unpleasant memories of his own. 'Likewise, you don't know anything about me.'

He didn't offer an explanation. Sirius didn't need one. He had no reason to stoop that low. He'd much rather be an open rebel than a silent liar.

* * *

Home was an empty house, a sofa and a lot of beers. Sirius never wanted much; a place where no one would tell him what to do and who to be, where freedom was granted without consequences, where he didn't have to hide from his parents was all he ever wanted, although sometimes, he did wish for something to share his home with. Someone who understood him. Home was good, but it would be even better if he was not alone in it.

His hand found the Galaxy Investigative Agency business card. Even after so many years, there was still a place in his heart that he reserved for his brother. He dialled the number again. It wasn't until someone picked up the phone that he remembered it was actually making a call, and that he needed to say something.

'… um, that is, I'm still thinking about it, I mean, I'm not in a hurry for this, so to say.'

'That's fine, Mr Black.' It was a woman speaking on the other end. She was probably Regulus's assistant. 'Do you wish to continue the investigation? Or you can make a pause for the time being. That way we won't close the case completely. You can come back to us whenever you want.'

'Ah.' A professional was really a professional. In a way, having a pause on the investigation was the best way since that meant he could come back to Regulus with a reason anytime. Whether he actually got anything about Lupin out of it, he couldn't care less. He wasn't interested at all.

Was he?


	4. Chapter 4

The beach scene was so long that a week later the shooting was still in progress. Once again, Sirius found himself in a Hawaiian dad suit and clutching a surfboard tightly under his arm. Lupin was floating in the water, wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin.

'Get him some sunscreen…' Sirius heard Peter say to one of the staff, 'God knows when we're going to finish shooting…'

When the assistant handed the sunscreen not to him but Lupin only, Sirius let out a snort so loud that Lily, who was standing in the far left, turned to him with a glare. Lupin was such a baby. What was it about him that everyone seemed to take a liking to him without seeing the rudeness behind that façade? And he wasn't even the typical handsome type.

'Cut!' Snape hissed in his nasal voice that everyone hated except Lily. 'I can't go on with Black focussed on checking out Lupin's bum.'

'I did not!' Sirius sprang to his feet, his nostrils flaring.

'He means that he can't go on with you not acting scared enough,' Lily translated at the side. She was good at Snape-speak. Sirius and James suspected she enjoyed doing the translation so she didn't have to say the mean things herself but still got the effect. 'He's not wrong though, your boyfriend is drowning in the pool and you don't look remotely frightened.'

'We've been filming this scene for days,' Peter added unhelpfully, unaware of his approaching death. 'My gran always says it's unhealthy to stay in water too long.' He didn't specify who he was referring to, but the sympathetic looks he sent Lupin who was soaked from head to toe and slouching in the sea had said enough.

'So the sunscreen you gave him couldn't offer enough protection to his precious soul?' Sirius snapped, and then realised that it was quite a harsh comment especially in such a public environment, even for Lupin. 'Sorry,' he added reluctantly.

James, being a good bro he was, stepped in in time. 'Let's just call it a day.'

Sirius nodded at him gloomily. The staff began to clear the area just as rain poured down mercilessly, the sun and clear blue sky became a swirling storm in the blink of an eye. And, as if the day wasn't already bad enough, Sirius and Lupin were the last remaining ones left in the cloak room.

'Leave me the fuck alone,' Sirius warned. 'I'm not in the mood.'

There were sounds of clothes ruffling and drawers closing. 'That doesn't justify anything. Your job as an actor is to act out certain traits even if you don't innately possess them. Emotional stability, for one,' Lupin said, his back stiff against Sirius. He was folding his costumes in a meticulous manner, and talking didn't slow him down a second.

Sirius's jaw clenched hard. He felt blood pulsing through his veins. He'd had enough humiliation when the whole crew stopped working for the day because he couldn't perform well. 'Lecturing me now, huh? I'm so up for a challenge, y'know? A challenge to hit your nerve.'

Lupin turned slowly, his eyes squinted as if he was examining an insect specimen. He seemed quite a master in controlling his emotions, thought Sirius.

'I truly wonder –' Lupin seemed genuinely confused for a moment, and then he shook his head. 'Never mind. Challenge accepted.'

That rather surprised Sirius. Sometimes, he forgot that Lupin was also a 24-year-old that could be emo and dramatic and riled up and hence retaliate, not some old grandpa in an oversized sweater who attacks only by dropping snarky remarks. And maybe, just maybe, Lupin was simply being the responsible colleague and reminding Sirius of his duty; though given their feud, Sirius wouldn't put it pass him to be the teaser.

'I haven't said what exactly the challenge is,' said Sirius.

'I'll lay it out for you,' said Lupin as he crossed his arms, his head tipped to the side. 'We'll do some emotion training. We will aim to separate our true feelings from our actions. One moment, we will be as intimate and romantic as a 19th century couple. The next moment we will be as strange as random passengers in the Tube.'

'You mean just the way we already are,' Sirius pointed out.

Lupin shrugged. Amusement flashed across his eyes. 'Whatever you say.'

* * *

That was why an hour later, Sirius stood in the middle of a swimming pool, splashing water around. Lupin, on the other hand, was sitting on a chair near the edge of the pool, his legs crossed.

'Well?' Sirius splashed some more water towards Lupin. The waves melted into ripples and finally into the smooth water surface before they reached him. 'Aren't you going down as well?'

'No,' answered Lupin, and that immediately elevated himself to a whole new level of being a nuisance on Sirius's imaginary scale. His dipped his foot and tapped the water. Then he edged back immediately, narrowly escaping Sirius's water attack.

'Loser.'

Lupin wasn't even slightly fazed. 'It's you who need to act scared, not me. If you can't do it, you'll be here tomorrow and the day after tomorrow again until Snape is satisfied. I have Lily's permission to monitor your progress, by the way.'

_Oh. So Lily is in it as well. Cool. Does he get paid for this?_ Sirius made a mental note of reprimanding James when they hung out next time. But while he was here, he'd have to answer to Lupin. He swallowed the rest of what he was about to say and closed his eyes. He imagined a lot of things: himself drowning – impossible, he swam better than a dolphin; James drowning – he deserved it; Peter drowning – he might have felt some sort of sympathy but the that wasn't enough to scare him. Besides, Peter always made sure to use a swim ring.

'I can't –' Sirius was saying, half expected Lupin rolling his eyes at him when he saw a blur of yellow and green at the edge of the pool, and the empty chair fell back clumsily. _Splash! _The water went at least half a metre up the air, and a wave smelled strongly of chlorine was threatening to swallow Sirius up. Normally, being a brave lad as he was, a wave so artificial wouldn't have frightened him so much had it not been Lupin who created it.

'Bugger – what the…' But Sirius's brain acted way quicker than his mouth. A few feet away from him, Lupin was drifting in the water.

'Hey!' Sirius waded through the water. It felt like moving in honey. His legs were dragged backwards against the currents. 'Hey! Remus!'

There was no answer. Instantly Sirius's throat went dry, and his heart, which had been beating so vigorously and fuelled by irritation, skipped a few beats. Without a second thought, he swam swiftly towards where Lupin fell and caught him by his collar. From above the water surface, Lupin's contorted face was eerily blue. There was a stream of bubbles leaking from his nostrils; and, perhaps he was trying to speak, his mouth opened and closed and only procured more bubbles that made him harder to be seen.

Sirius extended his hand into the mess. Water was splashing and spilling around. He could hardly open his eyes without water getting in thems. And it hurt. The chlorine was no joke. 'C'mon! Grab my hand!'

There was a kick in his sheen, a blow to his stomach so hard that he nearly doubled up, but his hand was out and still, which some seconds later was grabbed – nearly yanked out of the shoulder socket – and Sirius thought he would probably be never able to let go of the hand with this great a force. And it was the sheer force that took him away from the swimming pool and back to the brook just behind the valley where his Uncle Alphard lived:

_'Sirius! Help!' Regulus was screaming, his little body swaying against the babbling water. 'It's washing me away! Help!' _

_He had one hand on the spiky rock, but that was all he got on solid ground. They were at where the brook was sloping downwards, and as Sirius looked ahead, there was an end to the brook: a stone platform, a smooth edge, and then – straight down, was a white, bubbling, beautiful waterfall…_

'Don't worry, I got you mate! Hang on tight!'

A hand clung onto the grip. It wasn't the small hand of his brother who was born prematurely, but a thin yet strong hand with long, scarred fingers. As Lupin seemed to have calmed down a bit, Sirius lifted his head above water, made sure he could breathe first and then dragged him to the edge. He helped him up; to Sirius's surprise, Lupin was far lighter than he looked. His flowery shirt was completely soaked; it stuck close to his body like a second layer of skin, and Sirius couldn't help but noticed the few ribs that jutted out.

Lupin was coughing loudly. His brown hair was plastered on his forehead, water dripping down the locks. He was red in the face, the flushed skin a sharp contrast to his hands.

'Are you out of your mind? What if –' Sirius could still hear his blood rushing in his veins. Scared, he definitely was, whatever the reason. 'What if – Snape sued me for injuring a cast member? That's practically death you just jumped into! I don't want to end my career just yet!'

Lupin glanced at him sideways between his wet bangs that fell into his eyes like curtains. 'Thank you. That's kind of you to think of my wellbeing as a side note to the future of your career.'

'Yes,' said Sirius, his breathing still uneven. Himself still in water, Sirius padded forward, grabbing Lupin's arm and studied it thoroughly. There were scars and red dots against his pale skin. 'And what the fuck is wrong with you? If you can't swim, you can say no to filming the beach scene, you know that? Look at… Shit, is the chlorine starting to bleach your skin?' Logically he knew it made no sense. The A he got in Chemistry wasn't just a letter, yet with Lupin, he was never his normal self.

Lupin pulled his arm back quickly. There was another patch of purple up his shoulder, and Sirius wondered if he grabbed him too hard. 'If you did the scene like this today, Snape would've taken it,' said Lupin as he pulled the sleeve down, just before coughing fit took him over.

'You don't have to do this, you know?' Sirius said again after he got himself sorted out. The coughs were nerve-wracking, like it was going to split him in half any time. Sirius hated it.

Lupin's head snapped up. 'You think –?' He wrung his wet shirt absentmindedly, choosing the right word with meticulous care: 'It's nothing like that, obviously. I mean, Lily promised me a buffet for that. Besides, I'm just… too impatient to wait in the water while you stand there like an idiot. And, and, it's not like I slipped intentionally just to get your attention –'

He clammed up, his mouth a hard thin line. Sirius was in the midst of coming up with a retort, and he was taken aback by the sudden silence. He turned; he thought he could see a wild spark dancing in those amber eyes. It extinguished before he could make a better look.

'I think we should go,' said Lupin again. He was blinking rapidly. Sirius obeyed. And they got up and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

It seemed that they reached the tacit agreement that neither should mention what happened at the pool if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Sirius caught Lily's appraising look when they finally wrapped up the shooting. He scanned the beach, and Lupin, who had just been in the sea with him, was nowhere to be seen.

'I think he left,' Peter said as he sorted his cameras and tracks. 'Got something urgent to do, he said. You're coming with us, right?'

The crew was going clubbing. It was one of the fun nights, a tradition the Potter Co. had had for as long as it had been found. The Marauders – the nickname James, Sirius and Peter got themselves in school were of course the fervant supporters of the tradition, but other members were welcome as well. The bigger, the crazier the party, the better.

But for Sirius, the feeling of loss was immediate. He attributed it to an improvement to their colleague relationship. At least the sight of him didn't sting anymore. 'Remus's never really joined us in any events. Are we too boring?'

Peter shot him a weird look. 'Come on, Padfoot,' he threw up his arms dramatically, 'of all things, you're really doubting on this one?'

When Lupin finally appeared again, it was a few days later. His mannerisms suggested to Sirius that he either really didn't give a damn about last week at the pool, or he had completely forgotten that it even happened. The way he tilted his head when Sirius casually mentioned it reminded him yet again he was dealing a man with the most complex personality he'd ever met, not to mention there was still a challenge (training) between them which required constant control of their emotions. What was worse was that Lily and James might know about it, which meant that Sirius had to do everything to save his face.

And everything between them turned into a battle. They were walking down a street when a large crowd of fans ambushed them. To say 'ambush' was not an understatement because there were girls (and a few guys, Sirius noticed; some really enthusiastic ones and some were reluctant boyfriends dragged into this mess by their girlfriends) screaming and practically jumping on them, shoving cameras and paper and pens in their faces.

'Sirius! Sirius! Can you sign here?' A girl with bright orange hair handed a bra over, a glorious red tinting her cheeks as she defeated tens of competitors and got to the front. 'And Remus, can I hug you? Let's do this together for a picture!' She did half a heart with her hand and invited Lupin to do the same. He went along good-naturedly. Sirius, on the other hand, was much more reluctant.

He knew his chance had come. 'Maybe I can sign your book instead?' He winked, pointing at the book under her arm. 'You know, so you don't fall asleep reading good ol' Fitzgerald.'

They all screamed at the top of their lungs, amazed and proud that their idols could read. They would go home tonight and say to their parents that the man they dreamed about knew Fitzgerald, and was a learned man who unlike many other stars nowadays was much more than just a handsome face without substance.

'Sirius! Remus! It is true that – oh my god! It's true! It's true right?' A woman in her mid-thirties shouted, and then turned around. 'Guys! It's true! The Sun was right!'

Immediately, the fans started chanting and clapping in a rhythm. Lupin was going to ask what The Sun had said when Sirius sidled up and put his cheek next to his. It was very warm, but not scalding, like the lovely afternoon sun. Lupin shot him a surprised glance but didn't say anything. Perhaps it was an instinct, he slid his arm across and held Sirius's back. But before he could plant his arm firmly, Sirius decided it was time to straighten his back, so the arm fell listlessly next to the hoodie-clad trunk where it belonged. The warmth from their touching cheeks that he was slowly getting used to was gone in a second.

'It's only true only if we say so,' Sirius said, blinking his eyes innocently.

'But The Sun got it right about Lily and Peter!' Someone far back argued. 'They were a couple at school, right? They even admitted it in the interview!'

'So what do you mean just now? Are we to find out before the paps?' A little boy who was piggybacking on his sister asked excitedly.

'It is,' said Sirius with an air of mystery, 'only if you think it is.'

'So it is true?' 'When did it start?' 'Can we get some proof of it?' 'C'mon! Can we get a firm "yes"?' 'Does it matter? It's true –'

'What _is_ true?' Lupin finally got out of his silence and asked. He seemed a little dishevelled like he had been suppressing the urge to ask but failed. Sirius thought he saw someone take a picture of Lupin putting out his arm and back in the pretense for a stretch. It took all his willpower not to let his smugness show.

'Shush babe,' he said didactically, and Lupin's eyes widened. 'We're killing their imagination.'

This elicited a few weird-sounding giggles from the crowd. Sirius remembered the omegaverse fanfics that Peter showed him, and his insides flipped over and back again. While the settings were… well, not really his cup of tea, and he definitely did not want to think about him _going into heat_, he felt butterflies in his stomach whenever the notion came up. He peeked at Lupin sideways. His cheeks were redder than the hair of the first girl, and his attempt at shrinking into the oversized hoodie he was wearing only attracted more eyes on him. So Sirius slung an arm over him and whistled.

'Bye guys. You'll know when I tweet.'

Once the crowd was out of sight, Lupin ducked out of Sirius's arm. He tucked in his hoodie and pulled it out again. Then he shook his head a few times, which only made the brown curls messier than ever. The mental image of a dog shaking its fur to get rid of the cooties was so funny that Sirius let out an untimely snigger.

'What?' Lupin asked. He sounded a bit mad, and his attempt at making his hair less of a mess was futile. His eyes were on the puddle on the floor. The sun was bright and nice, and his reflection was clear.

'What?' Sirius echoed. He made a show of stopping and wheeling around, bending a little so that he was looking right into Lupin's eye from below. Lupin took a step back and crossed his arms defiantly.

'Didn't expect that, did you? How did I do?' Sirius asked smugly.

Lupin snorted, which Sirius took as an encouragement. 'So much fun for roleplaying. Woohoo!'

'I said separate yourself from acting, which you have clearly failed to achieve since you're still buzzing.' Lupin was walking again. Ahead of Sirius, this time. 'What did The Sun say? I never read it.'

Sirius put his hands in his pocket. He did not regret entering this little game of annoying his rival at all. 'Who knows, and who cares.' A moment later, he added: 'James just announced that we're making a film together.'

Lupin was already on his phone. 'I don't think that's what the fans are on about.' He tapped on the screen fervently. 'Oh wow. The Sun says we're having an affair.'

'Oh?' said Sirius in a bored voice. If he got it right, The Sun probably used a much eye-catching title than just that. He'd lost count of himself on the headlines of the tabloid long ago. According to what had been reported in the past, he'd banged half of Britain's population, the assistant of the prime minister included. With what the two brain cells the paps had, he wasn't at all surprised that was all they could come up with. He could spin a much eye-catching story himself. Or actually it could be Snape's doing. The man was nasty, but he wouldn't do anything to ruin everything that Lily Potter had to do with. It could well be his idea to promote their upcoming film – as a prank on his school day enemy, and a small favour for Lily. Killing two birds with one stone. Typical Snape.

If Lupin was going to make a scene, he didn't. He seemed rather calm to the point of being emotionless, which was a sharp contrast to his earlier reactions. He walked ahead of Sirius, who despite being the taller one had to pick up his pace so he wouldn't lag behind. The sinking sun pulled Lupin's already lean shadow even longer, and he was a black spot moving against the blinding light, just like how he had walked through the flashes of cameras and scribbling of notes without batting an eye. But then he was the man who survived in rumours and tabloid stories. If anyone was numb to slander, it was him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius much preferred the Scottish Highlands to London. The concrete walls and glass-panelled buildings block too much sunlight. The Tube is dodgy and stuffy. Not an inch of land is not covered by a layer of dirt and scattered with used tissues and Coca-Cola cans. Even the people are not lovable; they see you, they look head, they walk past you. In London, you don't make friends just by going to the store and talk to some nice cashier who happens to have the same interests as you. You have customers, bosses, acquaintances, contacts and one-night stands instead. People commute between their offices and clubs where they can drink to forget the woes and grievances at work.

Even for a big star like Sirius, his life wasn't too far away from the said routine. He just got back from the studio, and he hopped off the Tube at a random station and headed for the bar his phone auto-suggested for him. It took nearly half an hour for him to find it, but that was okay.

The bar was truly an oasis in the hurly-burly of London. Sitting on the outskirts of one of the busiest zones, it was perhaps not the most popular place most people would go to for a hangout, but tonight, it was the brightest spot in the city. Once in a while, there would be a party where guests would have to dress up and most importantly, to wear a mask. It was like the Carnival of Venice, only that no taking-off of masks was allowed.

It sounded like somewhere Lupin would frequent.

'_Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…_' They were blasting Rick Astley, which was right up Sirius's alley; 80s and 90s music was rejuvenating. The lion mask with manes on him hid his features and hair well enough, and for perhaps the first time since he was propelled into stardom, he waved to greet not because some people waved at him half a street away but because he was genuinely excited. The guy next to him in a pokemon costume shoved him away impatiently, and the barmaid, who was dressed as Hera with her crown so large that half her face was covered, was busily entertaining all the crowds around her and somehow, she missed Sirius. He had to ask to get himself a beer.

It reminded him of his school days. The canteen was a mess, the food couldn't compare to the dishes served at Grimmauld Place, but it was his heaven. Sometimes, when he wanted more but couldn't be arsed to line up to get a refill, he'd steal from Lily, or Marlene, or Mary. The girls ate little. Stealing from them was how he and James got protein and build their abs.

To breathe the fresh air of anonymity fuelled him with excitement and enthusiasm. He got around the bar, danced a step or two whenever the music came along (and across the noise of the people), shot a few darts and drank like there was no tomorrow. It wasn't like he always got a day off the next day when he curl in the blankets and wallow in hangover.

'… so I said to 'im, "mate you wanna fight?" n' we had a real, good wrestle and that's how I met m'best friend.' A man who was clearly drunk was wielding an empty whiskey bottle, his Native American mask with huge feathers threatening to slip off his face. There were a group of people around him, all holding a pint and cheering from time to time. It seemed like they were having some sort of sharing; once the man quieted down, the eager eyes glided to the woman sitting next to him like a spotlight moving from one actor to the other. Sirius grabbed a chair and sat in. The buzz of alcohol was running through his veins. It was the perfect time for group talk and, if possible, a few crazy rounds of truth and dare.

'Okay, I'm done,' the woman giggled. She nudged the next guy, her arms flapping in the pink fluorescent sleeves. 'Anything to tell the crowd?'

The guy – Sirius thought it was a guy? – cocked his head. He was masked from head to toe in black spandex with purple streaks streaming along his torso. Two horns rose from his forehead and dangled behind his head. It was an odd enough look, yet in the sea of colours, the black shadow only appeared flat and obscure. If it wasn't for the woman, Sirius would never have paid attention to him.

'Anything,' someone from within the crowd encouraged. 'We're all strangers tonight.'

'Friends, I'd say,' he replied, apparently smiling. Maybe it was the effect of alcohol, Sirius found his voice strangely soothing. He could easily fall asleep listening to him. 'We don't normally talk about this in front of strangers, do we?'

'Nooooooooo!' Sirius said with his hands around the lion's snout, forming a loudspeaker. He was so focused on cheering that he fell off the chair and got up only when someone offered him a hand. 'Ooof, got high,' he apologised. 'But don't let me stop you, Spandex.'

A snort was what answered him. 'Alright,' the guy now known as Spandex said, raising his tumbler. He wasn't in the best state of mind either, it seemed; for his tumbler was upside down and the content poured out. 'I… I am never the confident type, but I'm grateful to have met those who are. That's why I'm here with a costume, ha.' He pointed at himself with a shrug. 'There's this one person… he showed me what perseverance was. We were both at the hospital, and both were suffering. I'm glad that even when I had nothing, when I was robbed of a home, and warmth, I had him.'

An 'oooooh' reverberated among the people. 'That's so gay,' the remark shot out before Sirius knew it.

To his surprise, Spandex cracked up. 'Is it?' he voice was still somewhat shaky when he spoke again. 'It would not be an exaggeration to say that' – burp – 'it was him who shaped my life thereafter… I ditched my previous life – I became a different person, in a good way. It feels so nice, y'know? Seeing the world from a whole new perspective…'

Sirius was even more intrigued. There seemed to be an unknown force motivating him, urging him to explore the story of this stranger's life. 'Well, how are you two now? Any _good_ news?'

Spandex took a gulp. His speech became a bit slurred. 'Depends on how you look at it… I haven't seen him since then. And there's also the one that took everything from me – I just wanna say a big "fuck you" to him, and maybe, if I ever have the chance, "please come back"' – a cough, and a shrug – 'Don't worry. I know where they are, how they're doing with life. We just never talk anymore.'

He made a pause. Katy Perry's _The One That Got Away_ was playing untimely in the background. The crowd soaked up the rare moment of silence, and the woman patted him on the shoulder consolingly. As if encouraged, he said again, 'It's sad, but life goes on, yeah? There're much more to discover. What's the line again? – Better remember their best than cling on to their faded ghosts.'

The bookish delivery won him a round of applause. Actually, they would've clapped no matter what he said, Sirius reckoned. It was the positivity of the atmosphere that prompted him. How long ago was it that he could speak whatever came up his mind?

'Did you try to seek them out?' he asked again and sounded almost cheery. The sudden curiosity was unquenchable.

Spandex shrugged. 'Don't reckon they'd wanna see me. I gave up on the first one. The second one though – well, I'd remind him of his worst.' He took another gulp, and beer dripped down his chin. 'To be frank, he'd remind me of my worst too. But that's okay. I'm happier now. I moved on. By being a adopting a different life.'

Sirius couldn't help but squint. That was partly because he was starting to see things swirling before him, and partly because Spandex's story rang a bell. In his squinted vision, minus the bending bodies and twisting tables, this Spandex guy _kind of_ looked familiar –

His legs were suddenly powered by an unknown force as he stood up, kicking his chair backwards. 'So that's why you never say a word of tru – ouch!'

The world turned upside down against his attempt at grabbing the table for support, and the pint he was holding spilled all over him. His back hurt, and his eyelids felt very heavy.

'He's positively stoned…'

'Let him lay a bit.'

He sat up against the pull of gravity. It felt like heaving the earth. 'I think I'm bleedin',' he rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. 'As in, bleedin' blood.'

'I get it, you're not bleeding pee.' Spandex moved over. His movements were at times dragged, and he burped a lot, but other than that he seemed to be the most sober member of the crowd. 'I'll get you' – burp – 'outta here.'

Then he dragged Sirius up and slung Sirius's arm across his lean shoulders. In a dreamy haze, and leaning against Spandex, he tumbled out of the bar, and then he was helped to sit on the curb. He hadn't felt warmth like this for a very long time; no one held him voluntarily. The actresses in shooting held him because it was their job, and they got paid for it. There might be still James and Peter, but then – the feeling was different. And it had been a long time since he needed the help. Getting cameras shoved in your face while you were drunk as fuck certainly wasn't the best feeling in the world.

Some minutes later, Sirius felt himself being manhandled into a taxi. Spandex might have said something, but blood was pounding so loud in his head that he barely heard anything. Spandex seemed to have given up on him. He turned to the driver instead.

And then his hearing cleared up. He heard every word Spandex said like he was speaking into a megaphone.

'9 Harrington Street, please.'

Sirius hadn't the brain cell to figure out what that meant. He tried to massage his temples only to find that the lion mask was still on.

'For fuck's sake, this mask fucking stifles,' he mumbled. With some struggle, he took off the mask. His hair was a mess having got trapped in a hot moist cage for hours, and if there was any blood at all, it must have formed clots and stuck to his hair. He needed a shower. Right now.

'Phew,' he said lazily, 'and hi, Rrrrrrrremus.'

The mood in the car shifted. He licked his lips. The Spanish r roll was satisfying to do. He knew without turning the effect it had on the other passenger who let out a small furious cry:

'Jokes on me, it's _you_.'

Then, with great reluctance, Sirius's address was mumbled to the driver. And that was the last thing he heard before sleep took over him.

* * *

The next day, Sirius woke with a splitting headache. He was confused as to how he ended up on his sofa; his drool was all over his shirt. He was never the type to fall asleep on the sofa, and if he were drunk the night before, he usually stumbled in and lay directly on the floor once he was inside.

And then memories started to catch up to him. Spandex – Lupin, that is – must have taken him home and put him on the sofa. The notion that Lupin knew where he lived and had crossed this very threshold just the night before was weirdly pleasing.

Sirius rubbed his temples. Wasn't it funny that, once again, they met as strangers after a month of shooting? And this had started an unexpected conversation that neither would have started if they were their normal selves. A new perspective had opened up, urging SIrius to see clearer, better. Only with disguise could they unveil their undisguised selves. Disguise was what propelled them to the top of the world, and at the same time what pulled them down to the isolated corners of society.

Sirius was beginning to understand Lupin's constant urge to hide behind a veneer he created for himself. Whatever had happened to him in the past – the people who once were the brightest stars in his life withdrew their support and left him alone – it must've caused him great pain. And if he chose to let gossips gloss over his past, Sirius was no one to judge. Each had their own coping mechanism, it wasn't Sirius's style didn't mean it wasn't others'.

Remus. _Remus._ Re-mus. The name seemed to have taken on a different tune. It tasted fresh and crisp on his tongue.

A red leaf outside the window fought free of the tree, falling off in a waltz to the beats of the wind. Autumn was quite beautiful, Sirius realised.

* * *

Lupin was away for the morning. When asked about it, James said he went to visit his mother or something, but he wasn't sure and it would be best if Sirius asked Snape since he was in charge. Sirius backed off.

He found his eyes glued to the entrance the whole afternoon. He had lost count of the number of times Peter went in and out of that door, moving around various filming equipment. But it wasn't the sight he wanted to see: he was anticipating a certain someone.

That night, the crew ordered McDonald's and ate around a big table. And then the door opened unexpectedly.

'Hey! Just in time!' Lily waved. Remus Lupin emerged from behind the wooden door. He was wearing a plain white shirt and a checked jacket, a cap dangled lightly on the straps of his backpack. 'The food arrived not five minutes ago. Have a seat.'

Remus greeted them, thought it was apparent that he was exhausted. He looked left and right, and it seemed to have taken him some time to locate the empty chairs stacked at the back. Peter followed his gaze and got up to help him. A little bummed that Peter took the chance, Sirius shifted aside swiftly and left a sly gap between him and James, who was astounded that there was suddenly space which he had not notice before.

'Here! Come sit with us.' James waved excitedly. Lettuce and a half-chewed chicken breast dropped from his open mouth and landed on Sirius's new jeans. If it was any other night, Sirius would've tackled James without a second thought. Tonight though, his heart gave a giant leap at the sight of Remus, who was waving James back and coming near them.

'Ah. Hi,' Sirius said, looking up from the bits of chicken breast on his thigh that he'd been staring at since James spat it out. He had been very busy cleaning himself and hadn't noticed that James had budged over.

'Hi,' said Remus, a small smile lighting up his face. The bags under his eyes appeared more prominent as the light shone directly above him.

'Had dinner yet?' Sirius asked and slid a tray towards Remus.

'I grabbed some food before I came, but I'll have a just a little, I guess,' Remus said as he pushed away the burger gently, smiling.

'Eat, or you'll be too thin,' Joanne the stylist giggled.

'Come on, Remus!' Lily exclaimed. 'We ordered 24 sets, and of course you'll have to take one!'

'I'm really not hungry.' Remus was still smiling. 'Someone else can have half my share.'

His gaze flicked through the people around him, and suddenly, Sirius had the sudden awkward feeling that he was being too large a presence in the room. He wished he could shrink instead of sitting there like a great hunk of useless rock. His fingers crept towards his empty plate, resting on it, but not yet moving – the plate seemed to have a magnet that was pulling his hand over and wouldn't let go. Remus was still looking around the table, his gaze shifty, biting his lip thoughtfully, ready to name anyone any second. Both were waiting for their prey to make the first move, and neither would strike without being the first one to move.

At last the women around the table straightened up with a giggle, and the pushing and kicking of feet under the table broke the invisible tension. From his direction, Sirius could clearly see that they were all looking at Joanne. She was blushing all sorts of colours, and she wouldn't look at Remus. After what seemed like an eternity, to both her and Sirius's dismay – Remus reached out to Peter, who was quite some distance from him and swallowing his drool.

'Peter?'

'Um, ah.' Peter tried not to look too enthusiastic. With Remus's encouragement, he reached out with a faint smile, but apparently his short hands had difficulty grabbing the nuggets in Remus's plate. It was when Sirius decided to step up.

'Perhaps I can share with Remus and Peter can have the extra half share?' he said. 'That is, if Remus doesn't mind.'

Peter brightened up immediately. 'Yes, of course. Oh wait – doesn't that mean you'll only have half a burger?'

'I'm on a diet,' Sirius said. 'Starting, uh, this week.'

Peter turned to Remus expectantly. 'What do you say?'

'Excellent,' was the crisp response Remus gave. He cut the burger into two halves in a swift move and slid it across to Peter. Then there was only one plate, one fork, one and a half of a burger minus a knife between him and Sirius.

'Bon appétit,' Remus said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

James would_ not_ let the topic drop. He was more annoying than the mosquitoes that buzz in your ear at night.

'_When_ did this diet thing start?' he was saying, his arms crossed. 'And for _what_, or should I say, for _whom_ –'

'For you, of course,' Sirius fired back sarcastically. 'Honestly, do I have to tell you when I piss and shit as well? I'm a fucking grown man.'

'Exactly. As a fucking grown man, I highly suspect that you're doing it –'

'Come on, why are we here?' Sirius interrupted him impatiently. Gesturing at themselves – James, Lily, Peter and him were sitting on the sofa in the Potters' house, the large clock on the wall read ten past twelve – he finally succeeded at shifting James's attention from him. 'You pulled us here after we had a full McDonald's dinner, not that I mind, but why?'

'I miss doing these Marauders nights,' Peter said dreamily and took a sip from his beer.

'Ah, yes,' James was smiling from ear to ear, 'have a guess.'

Sirius poured the whole bag of chips into his mouth. 'What, you're moving house?'

'Nope.'

'You're firing Snape,' Peter contributed.

'I wish – okay, okay, no Snape bashing here,' James wailed and shielded himself from Lily's heated glare with a cushion. 'Are we clear? No Snape bashing here.'

'So what –'

_'We're going to have a baby!' _

Silence. Then cheers and applause erupted.

'Oh my god,' Peter's tears were streaming down, 'do you hear that? _We_ are going to have a baby!'

Sirius was practically jumping up and down. The poor sofa had become his trampoline. 'We, the Marauders, are going to have a_ baby_!'

'We are,' Lily echoed the boys cheerily, just like she had always done since the very first Marauders night back at Hogwarts. They had all vowed that any children of the Marauders would also be a Marauder, and they were to be godmother and godfathers.

'If it's a girl, I want to name her Azalea,' said James with his hands moving dramatically. 'So that I'll have Lily and Azalea and a whole garden of flowers. And if it's a boy, well –'

'Grass,' Peter said solemnly.

Lily threw up her arms. 'Come on, I'm _not _naming him Grass!'

'Of course not,' James sounded very sober all of a sudden. 'I'm thinking of naming him after my grandpa. Or my dad.' He looked behind Sirius, his gaze suddenly very far away. Sirius turned; there was a portrait hanging on the wall behind him on which stood a man and a woman, their smile brighter and warmer than the sun.

'I miss them, you know,' said James, his voice very small. 'Every day and night.'

'So do I,' said Sirius. He looked up at the portrait, and the memories came back as if it was only yesterday that he fell into Mrs Potter's strong arms, having just escaped from the deadly grips of the Black family.

_'There's no one after me, is it? It's only me, right?' _

_'Hush, you're safe now,' she'd say, her hand on the back of his throbbing head. It hurt. _

_'But there is no one after me?' _

_'There is no one after you,' she'd replied firmly. _

_But he had hoped that there would be someone after him. Following him. He had hoped they would get out of the goddamn house together. _

'So do I,' he said again. 'That's why we'll be godfathers. We'll give him the love Mr and Mrs Potter would have wanted to give him.' He rested his forehead on the back of his hand against the table. It was scalding after a few cans of beers. 'D'you – d'you think they'd ever regret going –?'

'Never,' James said firmly without hesitation. 'Even if they were to know what was to come – they'd never back out from helping anyone in need.'

A few weeks later would mark the fifth death anniversary of the Potters. Five years ago, when James was nineteen and fresh out of secondary school, a fire took away his parents' lives alongside with some twenty other unfortunate people's. The fire was set by a mentally unstable patient in the hospital that James's parents helped founded and volunteered at, who had been sitting on the verge of the window and threatened to jump down the building. It made headlines the next day, and Sirius still remembered the picture of the building on fire so timely captured that the fire seemed to be clawing out of the paper and at the reader.

'Dad and Mum were trying to negotiate with the patient when it happened. They did the right thing,' said James again. 'They would never have let her jump and not do anything.'

Lily's hand found James's and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back in response.

'These five years without them… I have learned not to blame anyone.' James took off his glasses and dabbed them on his shirt lightly. 'I have learned to understand it was an accident no one could foresee, and of course I'm sorry – for my parents, for those who died in the fire, for their families, for me, for that patient who could not think for herself what was right to do, even. But with that they taught me how to be the good man they'd always wanted me to be. And I want to be like them. I want our child to be like them.'

'It will,' the Marauders echoed quietly. And if the little creature in Lily's tummy could feel the love it was surrounded with, it would know that it was the most loved kid in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius's heart and his newfound feelings for Remus bloomed - against the growing cold - into a dazzling firework that lit up his day and night. Remus's presence was no longer threatening; instead of shunning and pulling away, muddled by immaturity and the outworks of rivalry as he had been, Sirius found himself more and more attached to the warm blanket of fur and chocolate and books.

The teasing, he realised, was meant to be an instinct of him to flirt. It might have backfired - for he didn't know whether Remus was genuinely sarcastic in nature or if he, too, was testing the waters to flirt.

Or he was simply acting, really. But he definitely treated Sirius differently from the others, that he was sure.

'... Sirius? Sirius?' James was throwing paper at him. 'Padfoot? How long ago did you zone out?'

'Right from the beginning,' Snape said sourly, closing the powerpoint. 'I don't know, why didn't we ask Lupin to join us instead? He's more sensible.'

'It's supposed to be a Marauders meeting,' said Peter, looking very thoughtful, 'I don't know why you're here.'

Snape's sallow face paled with fury. 'Lily said -'

'Alright, I know she invited you and you spent the past week daydreaming about it,' James interrupted, ignoring the pale face now turned red. 'But since she's up in town shopping with Marlene, I'm in charge here - so, Sirius, you heard me right?'

'What?'

James pinched the bridge of his nose. 'So you really did zone out. I shouldn't have wasted an hour with you. Snape wrote a sex scene, but I think we might want to make it less physical since -'

Sirius's eyes widened. 'We're doing a family show? You never told me,' he said accusingly.

James looked like he was deceased. 'Fuck, did I spend a night on persuading Snape for you instead of singing lullabies to my baby in exchange for this?' A question occurred to him, and he sat up suddenly. 'Wait, I thought you didn't like Remus. I thought I was doing you a favour by leaving out the sex scene. You sound almost like you're eager to do it.'

'I - that's called professionalism,' Sirius snapped, his heart hammering. 'If you wrote it, I'll do it, simple as that. I'm not an actor for nothing.'

James still looked a bit miffed, but since it was Sirius's decision, and, as Snape said, the scene would add a great deal more to the film, he acquiesced and called it a day.

Sirius was the last to leave. And only then did a horrifying questioned pop up: 'Wait, Snape wrote the scene?'

* * *

Sirius climbed on Remus gingerly. Their bits were well covered up, but Sirius couldn't resist the temptation to look down. He averted his gaze just in time, his cheeks very hot. In the periphery of his vision, Remus lay quietly, and still, like he was only sleeping, the twitching of his fingers the only indication of him having any possible emotions about it.

The light was hot above their heads. Sirius hair was let down, casting a giant shadow on the pale white torso. It was wiry, thin but not unhealthy, dotted with faint scars and scabs which Sirius likened poetically to the tattoos of life.

'Action!' The call from Snape fired up every atom in Sirius's body. It was not loud, but explosive; it suspended time and space, his mind and soul; at once the world seemed to have melted down into nothingness but him and the beautiful boy lay below him, whose eyes, awakened by the call, were brown and deep and keen.

'I hope I won't scare you like I did the first time,' he murmured before leaning up and enclosing his arm around Sirius's neck, delivering on his lips the softest and most intense kiss he had ever tasted. Stars erupted; even with his eyes closed, Sirius could feel their ashes raining on him, glowing as the kiss drained his soul in, bit by bit, so that at last their souls clashed, giving out the brightest sparks, and became wholly one. Where Sirius's chest moved up, Remus's went down; and sweat, like diamonds, strewn across them. Sirius's hand glided down the lean shoulder, past the ribs, and found itself on the back, caressing the ups and downs of the spine, as soft as how breeze kisses the grass, as yearnful as how snow longs the embrace of earth. He was eager to feel, to touch, to explore; it was a fresh adventure, the map of the magical world of admiration and delight. It might have been a minute, or an hour, or a day; the flashings of camera and giant spotlights remained blissfully unaware. Sirius and Remus was so immersed in the kiss that that shout of 'Cut!' rang like a distant church bell. A makeup artist came over, and only then did they separate.

'Look up for me, please,' she said with perfect professionalism. Remus released his arms, and Sirius, still hanging above him, supported himself with an elbow planted between Remus's arm and trunk. Remus raised his head slightly, but his eyes were not any less spiritful than they had been. They followed their grey counterparts like a magnet, dreading that if they blinked, the deep bond they had established would be gone as quickly as the dying of a shooting star. Sparkly as they were, Sirius could not help but notice the veil that had been clouding them since he first set sight on them had not lifted; rather it was drawn to the side, the insides peeking out, a creature of mystery, fear and longing to know and to be known.

A large brush disturbed his observation as it dabbed across the scarred cheeks, reheating the faded red, and carefully, the makeup artist blobbed drops of sweat over the eyebrows and around the corners of his eyes. And then there was a hand on Sirius's back drawing the fake scratches and sweat. It felt rough and brisk.

'Okay,' she announced, and Sirius hardly needed another hint to dived back into his fantasy - whatever lay in the unknown, he had to find out. He plunged - this time without mercy - and nibbled on the spots where sweat draped over the amber eyes. He had had looked long enough, and this time - he wanted to remember with his lips -

'Guys, you might wanna speed things up a bit -'

With a start, and still in the process of remembering, Sirius was flipped over. Remus sat over him, a slight smile spreading on his face. He looked saintly against the bright light behind him. It tinted his brown hair gold, and there was a lining of yellow around his torso as well. For a split second, Sirius had the illusion that he really was an angel came fresh out of a fairytale, and was now bestowing upon him the sweetest gift of harvest.

Gold was the colour of gods; gold was the colour that Sirius never had in his childhood. It was all black and green and silver in Grimmauld Place, red was the colour of James and Lily, and Peter was a delightful dash of orange. Grimmauld Place was winter. James and Lily and Peter were summer. But this — Remus, November, sweat and smile, this was the perfect autumn.

* * *

'... with a redhead last night. Who's she?' 'Is it true that you have signed a contract you'll only be doing gay-themed films with the Potters?' 'Is Tonks and Rocks in any relation to you? Fans say you have a soft spot for punk girls…'

''Scuse me,' Remus pushed through the crowd. 'No comment, sorry.' Tonight, he was not in the mood to deal with nosy journalists. He barely made it past the street corner, the light of the studio gleaming just a few steps away, and just as he thought he'd escaped the torture of invasive questions, another crowd of screaming fans was waiting for him.

'Oh god -' he was halfway finishing his groan when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spinned him into a nook between two constructions. It was damp and narrow, he could hardly turn without pressing onto the other person, who, under faint light, was recognised to be Sirius Black.

'Jesus!' He would've jumped half a metre high had him still been able to. 'What on earth -'

'Shhh,' Sirius said, his hands pressing on the wall on both sides of Remus, pinning him in the middle.

'You do realise,' Remus whispered as best as he could with clenching teeth,'what trouble this position could've put us in, had they found us?'

The hot air he breathed out as he spoke was tickling. Sirius scrunched his nose. 'Hey, not even a "thank you"? I saved you from the fiends out there!'

Remus grunted, but thank god he was quiet at last. He turned his face from Sirius so that their nose, only centimetres apart, would not bump. In doing so, his lower part had to lean on Sirius's for support. If the light had been stronger, he would have seen the glowing fire on Sirius's cheeks, who had remained fixed as fragments of keen eyes and beautiful body flashed before his eyes.

The noise died down as the journalists and fans in equal were disappointed by the sudden disappearance of their favourite stars. Sirius and Remus waited until the last bit of voice went into the void and came out from their hiding place. Cold air assaulted Sirius's nostrils, which had got accustomed to the warmth and the smell of coffee and chocolate. He brushed off the dirt off his coat and fixed his hair briskly.

'Lucky us,' Remus grunted again. 'Thanks?'

'You're welcome,' Sirius said as he tucked the same strand behind his ear for the fifth time.

'Why are you here, anyway? I thought everyone's left.'

'I was looking for my notebook.' Sirius spread his hands, perfectly innocent. 'I left it somewhere. And you should've gone home straight away after a day of - well, you know where.'

Remus was back from his absence again, and he was clearly tired and in need of a rest. From time to time, he would apply for a day-off and came back in the evening. The crew had got used to his schedule so no one really asked anything. Suppose the life of a superstar isn't just about drinking wine and driving a Porsche around? His hair was a mess from the sharp wind, but it seemed that he hadn't got a minute to spare for it. His face was more telling: the angles were sharper, the lines deeper, and its expression sourer.

Suddenly, Sirius had an idea. 'Why don't we go and grab dinner?'

Remus looked up from massaging his knees. 'What?'

Sirius shrugged. 'I thought we could grab some food together if you haven't already. James and Lily left an hour ago for their baby prep sessions and Peter went back home to his gran's birthday party and I haven't had anything since 10 a.m. so yeah.'

'Sure,' Remus shrugged as well. 'Finally some fresh air after closed doors and craziness.'

'But I need to get something first. Can you wait for me in the studio and look for my notebook?' Sirius said. Remus didn't need more encouragement to head for the warm shelter. 'Just make sure it's not on. I'm leaving it here for tonight.'

Half an hour later found them strolling along the great river that ran in the heart of London. Remus's mood lifted at the joyous view, and this cheered Sirius up as well - for people like them, showing up in a place full of people when it was not for an event was a rare enjoyment; the heavy clothes and scarves made them nearly indistinguishable from other people.

London is truly a gem. Even at night, it was brimming with people from all over the world, and they were just two specks of dust in the sea of tourists, edging forward slowly, often finding themselves with a camera its owner so passionately shoved into their hands and said, more common than not in heavily accented English: 'Can you please take a picture for us?' Then Sirius would take the camera and asked them to strike a few poses apart from the V sign ('East Asians do that in photographs,' said Remus afterwards. 'It's often accompanied by everybody saying "yeahhhh"… Nah, they interpret it as the Y in yeah.'), and then, without waiting for the tourists to ask, he would warmly inquire if the angle and lighting was okay and whether they wanted another picture. The answer was usually yes, and that took up quite a lot of time. But then, an evening stroll along River Thames was supposed to slow and relaxing.

'Let's sit down for a bit,' Sirius suggested, and Remus agreed. Weariness had become spirit and faint excitement. They found a place where they could see the London Eye on the opposite shore, and a few feet from them, a cruise staff was waving at them, a large banner behind him said the next cruise tour would start five minutes later.

Remus stared at the cruise wonderingly, head cocked, and breeze brushed his hair to gently to one side, giving him a makeshift side fringe. He looked like an innocent little boy with his face plastered on the shop window that refused to leave even when his mother called for him. Sirius turned, his gaze steady and firm.

And then he sprang to his feet, his stool nearly turning over, making the waitress who just took orders from him jump. 'Let's – Remus, let's take the cruise!'

He sounded unsure. 'We just ordered –'

'It's okay! C'mon!' Slamming three 20 pound notes on the table, Sirius flung on his trench coat and pulled Remus up, nearly knocking down another stool in the process. Downing his glass of water at once, he shouted, 'Hey sorry! We'll catch the cruise! Please keep our orders - we'll be back!' and ran towards the cruise. The cruise staff was fixing the rope and gates, ready to leave, but Sirius was unrelenting. Remus felt wind graze his ears, his trench coat fanning behind his back like a cape.

They jumped in in the last second, the staff, an old man in a white uniform and cap, cast them a reprimanding glare.

'Sorry, we'll pay, hey – sir, please.' Sirius's hands were clasped together in an apologetic manner. 'We're sorry, it was a last minute decision, but then my friend here – he really wanted a ride.'

'I don't really,' Remus muttered through closed lips, a little annoyed. He nudged Sirius with some force in the ribs, raising his voice, 'Sorry, we'll just –'

'My friend here really wanted a ride. He's never been on one before,' Sirius insisted, his eyes puppy dog-like. 'So I thought, I thought –'

'Well, don't do it again, young man,' the old man said sternly, his white beard bobbing as he spoke. Then he turned without another word. But when his gaze flicked past Sirius and Remus, who was stuffed themselves on the narrow couch, sitting shoulder by shoulder, knee to knee, it was surprisingly tender.

'Welcome aboard to City Cruise 101. I'm David Cooper, your captain. Tonight I'll take you on an amazing journey along River Thames, and I'll guide you through …'

'I have been on a cruise before,' said Remus a bit peevishly. 'Like, once, but it still counts –'

'Once ?' Sirius's head snapped up. And before Remus could affirm that yes, he'd indeed been on a cruise once before, Sirius continued: 'Only? I'd have thought – well.'

A cloud passed over Remus's face, the angles and lines on it seemed to have become more prominent. Sirius hung his head low, his hands in the warm pockets of his coat, not quite knowing what to say. Silence filled the air, and it was as if coming to shape in the form of bricks that would build an invisible wall between them. So before the wall could start to build, he took out something he had been meaning to show the whole evening.

Remus threw him a half-curious glance. It was two plain white masks, those that primary school students by for their art class and draw on with markers and paint. He handed one to Remus, who took it, puzzled.

A moment later, he cleared his throat. 'Well that's - honestly not what i was expecting. Is Halloween not over for you?'

Sirius knew people were looking at them with harmless curiosity. His sixth sense was like a live wire, trained by years of dodging cameras and paps. But fuck it, he deserved some private time to be weird. In that moment, they were just those noisy young men we see on trains that runs across half the country, maybe from Glasgow to London, who have saved their money for one semester plus the part time jobs to take just to see the Thames with their mates. They are not rich, they stuff six people in a room and skip breakfast (because, you know, London) and walk three stations on foot if they're not too far away - but hey, they're happy. It's their time to be alive - as it was for Sirius and Remus.

Back to Remus's question. 'There's never Halloween for me. That is, before I got kicked out,' Sirius shrugged, 'it's considered improper and common in my family. And then James picked me up, I remember barging into their kitchen at night…' He stopped abruptly. This part, the details, he didn't think he'd ever tell it publicly. It had always been just between him, and James, and within the safe boundaries of the Marauders. But now, with the mask on, he felt braver, freer. It was almost like … almost like that night in the bar, where all the people were in disguise and talking their hearts out. Was that why…? He turned to look at Remus, who, to his mix of surprise and exasperation, was holding something that did not belong to him at all.

'Colour pens?' he examined them closely with great interest. Sirius grabbed at his pocket: it was empty.

'You - ?' His face flared up for the second time on the night. The thought of Remus picking his pocket was almost too enticing for him.

Remus's eyes were sparkling of mischief. 'How romantic of you. C'mon, don't let the ink dry out in the cold.'

He didn't even ask for Sirius's consent; his hand was already on Sirius's chin, lifting his head up and pulling him closer. Sirius was about to yelp, but the warm palm against his stubbles subdued him. In the dim light of the cruise, Remus's eyes were a blur of green and amber that mixed into a cloudy brown dotted with gold sparks that were the reflections of modern city lights. Dash, dash, the pen stroked along the corner of his eye, all the way down to his nose tip; and with a graceful dip, it tiptoed off the mask.

Remus leaned even closer to check whatever he'd drawn, his breath fresh and smelled of mint. And Sirius — Sirius felt as if all his sensations were narrowed down to the single point where Remus's fingertips pressed on his chin. He managed to utter a grumble when he'd finally pulled himself together: 'Are you done?'

He flung the mask off his face when the opportunity presented itself. 'A - a tear?' That wasn't what he expected. He felt that a veil of melancholy had draped over them. Voice softening, he said, 'I've always liked tears, you know. People say don't let others see you cry, but I say let your tears show. It's okay to show your vulnerable side, and it feels so good when someone comes over and comforts you, because you know that at least someone still loves you and supports you.'

If only someone - anyone in Grimmauld Place had shed a tear for his leaving.

Remus looked he was deciding whether he should go with Sirius or tell a joke to dissipate the sadness. 'Actually - ' He finally said, then Sirius saw that, on the pad of his thumb, was a mix of red and yellow. 'Sorry for my bad drawing, but it's actually rays of sunshine. I was going to say you're - er, bright and sunny and clever. Yes, like just like that.'

That was all it took for Sirius to fully let his heart open. 'You think I'm bright and clever and funny ?' He straightened his back, surprised. 'I thought you hated me. From your attitude at first, 'cause you know, I'm a Black.'

'People change,' said Remus, this time a lot more serious. 'I was wrong, I know. Here - I sincerely apologise for my prejudice. I hope you'll forgive me.'

'I forgive you. But -' Sirius felt braver as night went deeper - 'was it really only because of my last name? Was that the only reason you — '

'No,' Remus said loudly. 'No, that's not true. It's only that I - I heard things.'

Sirius waved a hand in distaste. '99.9% of people did. And it's largely true. I betrayed my name and the values it embraces. A disgusting, abhorrent set of values, mind you. I do not regret running away and still call myself a Black. It's seen my birth, my defiance and tough times rising from the ashes of my old life.'

Remus nodded and continued with a new fierceness in his eyes that Sirius never saw before. 'Names. Some are proud of where they belong, and will do whatever they can to protect their name; but some regret it, and wish they were never born that way. I had thought that covered all of us and that was how I based my judgements on — until I met you. I realised, with surprise and admiration, that you are both of them.'

He said this in one go, without pauses and interruption. His eyes were so oddly bright that it was almost certain that there was another story behind them, and it longed to be told and heard. A rush of heat ran through Sirius.

'Come with me,' he said, looking straight into Remus's eyes, hoping to see through the haze of amber and figure out whatever was behind it. 'Come home with me,' he said again with wholehearted sincerity, stretching his arm towards Remus. And all he had to do was reach out and hold his hand.

'But that's only you,' at last he looked down and sighed. 'I wish I could be like you.' He put on his blank mask wordlessly, and no more explanation was offered. They sat in silence; their masks, one plain white, one radiated with yellow, formed an eerie reflection of themselves.

At length, Sirius said: 'But you don't have to be like anyone. We all have our pasts, which make each of us the unique way as we are today. I just want you to know that - even if you feel like you can't face your past - whatever it is - I'm always here for you. You will have me to lean onto because if anyone's got this shared experience of dealing with troubled pasts, it's me; and with that I'm willing to be your bay for you to moor in, away from the storms and wind outside. So,' Sirius took a deep breath, 'will you try this out with me?'

Sirius's hand was still outstretched, waiting for Remus to reach out - and he did. Although slow and shaky, and paused in the middle as he entertained the thought of retracting, he did eventually put his hand in Sirius's. It wasn't the tight, fierce hold that he gave while they were filming, but it was there - for the first time without the presence of a camera, without all the acting and pretense and all the character quirks that didn't belong to him - plain, modest, yet as real as the earth was firm beneath their feet.

'Home, you said?' He asked carefully, still adjusting the grip.

Sirius gave their joint hands a firm squeeze. 'Home,' he nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

Three months later, James's film was in the can. The whole crew was busy with promotional tours, press release, interviews, merchandise – anything that would raise exposure. And of course it did: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, _cooperating_, were enough an attraction to break box office records.

The tours took them from one end of the earth to another. James, going on behalf of the pregnant Lily as the producer, though at times miserable when homesickness hit, was enthusiastic to recreate their epic high school Marauders trip – with the addition of the sassy Remus Lupin this time round who Sirius had introduced to his friends as his new boyfriend.

Sweet as it was, the beginning of a new relationship wasn't as flat and smooth a road as how books picture it to be. Remus had agreed to date not without conditions. Well, he didn't spell it out but it was there, an unspoken rule.

Sirius had asked whether Remus would like him to accompany him on one of his monthly chores. And the answer was no.

'Can't you at least tell me what it's about?' Sirius put his chin on Remus's shoulder from behind, his arms around him. 'It makes you so tired, and snappy, and sad every time. I just want to make you happy.'

'It doesn't,' Remus insisted, frying an egg in Sirius's kitchen. 'I'll tell you what it is: I go to my mother's monthly. She's a chronic patient, and she doesn't like visitors.'

'I'm sure –'

'No.'

'…Okay.'

A moment later, Sirius said again as Remus cracked a second egg: 'What is she like?'

Remus added milk, his stirring never faltered for a moment. 'I guess,' he began after some time, 'I'd say she's a passionate being, a loving wife. She talks about my dad all day.'

'And what is he like?'

The eggs were ready. Remus lifted them to the plate. 'Let's eat, or else Snape is going to throw a giant fit.'

They never really went into Remus's family again, which Sirius understood, actually; but he really wished that Remus would loosen up a bit. Burdens, when borne by two people, were always less daunting than by one.

And then there was the problem of what to say to the outside about their relationship. Sirius preferred to be open; he couldn't wait to gush about how pretty Remus's hair was, how sparkly his eyes were, how cute he was when he was constipated on all his social media. Remus and James remained neutral on this. To Sirius's absolute disgust and annoyance, it was Snape who had a problem with it.

'As director of _A Story under the Moon_, I request that you keep your relationship status private until the film is off the big screen.' The bat-like man was sullen as ever.

'What?' Sirius hissed. 'Are you my guardian now? What does my relationship have to do with you, Mr Director?'

Snape looked at him coolly. 'You do realise being gay is still a sensitive issue in some places, as progressive as the world seems to be?'

'I thought we were working towards increasing visibility and representation of the community by doing an LGBTQ+ film,' said Sirius in retaliation. 'It's ironic that my relationship, which is a beautiful spin-off of the film that celebrates diversity of love, is forbidden to be open to public because gay men being in love might irk some homophobic arseholes who will happen be the audience of this film, and as you suggested, will make "_an impact on the box office_".'

'It's reality, it's harsh, Black, whether you like it or not,' Snape replied steadily, his beady eyes flashing, 'you have to accept that money comes first in the industry where everything is about it.'

'Is it though?' Sirius laughed. 'I have dated men before, and see? I'm still here. Well and alive and _thriving_.'

'You might be, but I care none about it.' Snape took a step forward, his stinky breath assaulting Sirius's senses. 'What I care, is what you will do to Lily's company. It's not Disney, and as much as Potter hates to admit it, a single blow is enough to make a small-sized private company sink. The situation we have is prickly – some fans ship you and Lupin because of your roles, some ship Miles and Sam, but not you two; some don't ship anyone at all.'

'That's right up my alley. I can't wait to read some hardcore smut of my own,' said Sirius smugly, enjoying the effect it had on the other man.

Snape's eyes narrowed. 'What I'm requesting is – as I know you're too stupid to think of it yourself – you don't deny any rumours, but you don't address them either. Let them float. Let them spread. That way the film doesn't lose any audience, whatever their ship is.' He paused, then added menacingly: 'If you ever ruined her – I warn you –'

'You'd ruin me, got it,' Sirius stalked past him and out of the room. He could still feel the beady eyes drilling holes on his back. He had to admit Snape had a point, and he hated that he was probably right. His previous relationships had been a mess; they were where the paparazzi got their nutrition from, and his manager had warned him enough times that one day, they'd get back at him and he'd not have the power to fight them.

But at the same time, it was fun, and fresh, to have his relationship all to himself. It brought him back to his school days – the elbow touches, secret winks, playing footsie under the table – he'd missed them. Especially when Snape had made the special effort of separating them in every damn interview, secret communication between him and Remus became essential.

'This is the first time you play a gay character on the big screen, Sirius. What are some difficulties you've encountered in the process, or are there any breakthroughs you've found for yourself?'

'It's not really that difficult, being queer myself,' Sirius said calmly, ignoring the hot glares Snape sent him and smiling at James's encouraging nod. 'It's just me being myself in the film. You'll see.'

The interviewer was like a shark going after blood. 'Does that mean we'll get good content of you and Remus being cute and sexy in it? Has that made any changes to your real life relationships? How did you try to bring it to life, when you're not in real life dating?'

'Why, do you ask every actor who plays couple the same question?' Sirius teased, and the interviewer cackled to hide her embarrassment. 'I think you need to look at it the same way you look at hetero-on-screen relationships. People often become really good friends after that.'

'How about _you_?' She persisted.

'I – well. Remus and I are really good friends, naturally.' Which was true. 'We just have this sort of chemistry that worked really well. I think I fell in love with him the first time I laid eyes on him. He had this really amazing vibe, and I –' _shit._ 'I just really love working with him,' he finished lamely.

Her eyes flashed like she found a gem. 'Can you tell us more? We have the impression that you two –' she made a gesture towards Remus, who had so far been silent – 'were not too friendly with each other at first. Why don't you each share your version of the story? Maybe you'll go first, Sirius?' Her knowledge had pointed to her that Sirius was the easier one to breach; she smiled sweetly, her hand doing an inviting gesture. Behind her, the screen suddenly flashed; and then a picture of Sirius and Remus in their first week of shooting showed. Sirius had his hands on his waist, glaring; and Remus was sitting nonchalantly on a chair, crossing his legs, his chin up in a defiant manner.

'We're merely – practising,' Sirius said distractedly. 'I don't wanna spoil it, but the story of Miles and Sam isn't exactly a smooth straight line.'

'This was taken in a café outside shooting hours,' the interviewer explained. 'One of our audience happened to see you guys and was enthusiastic to share it with us.'

Sirius decided to make it simple. 'We had some disagreements, but we got on very well afterwards.'

'We know,' she smiled, and with a wave of her hand, another picture appeared. It was them again, of course, but this time much more intimate. Half of Sirius's body was literally hanging on Remus like a baggy jumper on a clothes hanger.

'Another fan –' she began, at the same time Sirius explained hastily: 'Remus was really cold and I gave him a hug.' He vividly remembered the detail afterwards; they fumbled in the street and it had taken them every ounce of self-control not to fuck just there. It was in a great panic that he blurted out an excuse that was better left unsaid.

They all turned to him in surprise. He heart was hammering in his chest; he sneaked a look at Snape, who was positively fuming. Later, Remus said something so vague that the interviewer gave up on him, and James made a few jokes and performed his self-choreographed dance so that when she remembered she had not got the answers she wanted from Sirius, the interview was over. Sirius dashed out at once, as though a student finally released from a boring class, and went back to his room.

The crew was in Toronto for their promotional tour. They were going east next stop, back to Europe, finally to London where they were based, and that would conclude the tour, by which time the film would be ready for release. Then there would be a few small tours, just around the UK, and the premiere and then that would basically be the end. Since Remus had another contract starting soon, he would leave early before everything was done. For some reason, the notion of that made Sirius sad.

'I'll miss you,' Sirius said, after the tour ended and they were in his cozy house, massaging Remus's foot in his lap, who was reading a book on the other end of the sofa. 'No, I think I'm already missing you.'

'You say it like I'll be gone forever.' Remus looked up, his crooked canine catching the light. 'It'll only be a few months, and in between, if you have time, you're welcome to visit anytime –' he caught himself, and after thinking a bit, he added hastily; 'Only if you want to, of course. You're having the new film with Riddle?'

That earned him a swat on the arm from Sirius, who chided: 'You shouldn't ever have doubts about whether or not I will want to visit you. Of course I do. If you say it again, I'll hang about day and night. Riddle can burn the contract all he wants and I won't care the slightest bit.'

The corner of Remus's eyes crinkled. 'Yes, sir,' he mock saluted, and sat up straighter as he became serious again. 'That Riddle. People say he's very harsh, though I admit his films are pretty cool.'

'Yes, but that's not happening in a few weeks,' Sirius assured him. 'And it's only in Beijing. You're shooting in the LA, right? That's like –'

'- half a globe away,' Remus finished his sentence. He put down his book and looked at Sirius solemnly. 'If you walked through Earth vertically from Beijing, you'd reach the US on your way out. Can you imagine the distance?'

Sirius climbed on him, resting his chin on Remus's collar bone. It stuck out, and Sirius didn't quite like it. 'Yeah, but I'm not going to walk from Beijing to LA, am I? I'm going to take a bloody plane. I bought a new helicopter last month, you wanna see me fly it? Or actually – my horse wants a ride out of the barn. You wanna take a ride with me… how about tomorrow?'

Remus regarded him for a full minute before he spoke. 'You really _are_ missing me already. I'm a touched.'

Sirius didn't tell him why; but that night, when he snuggled up to his boyfriend, he held him from behind, his arms tightly around him like he was some precious jewellery. He let go once in life – and he never really got it back. Till this day he didn't know where his brother lived, how he was doing, except that he had become a whole new person whom he should know but didn't get the chance to do so. And perhaps it was some Hollywood curse – things never lasted long in this place. Alarmingly, Sirius had borne in mind the first day he set foot in the industry, as his mentor Moody had seen to it that he did, that among the reasons for breakups, physical separation accounted for more than half of them.

They say the more you love, the more you worry; maybe that could explain his feelings, he thought to himself.

* * *

Riddle and his people were jerks – perhaps to say that was an understatement. Sirius despised being around them; as much as he thought, similar to Remus, that Riddle was a dab hand at films – especially the Gothic elements which he employed so well, and the ways he handled violence and blood – he wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. Besides, food in Beijing was… well, not his cup of tea, probably except Peking ducks. When he was not filming, he liked to spend time alone. He was smoking in a back alley when someone called him.

'Ho! If it isn't Sirius Black!'

A batty old man was flashing his vintage film camera at him, his white beard tied in a knot. If it wasn't for the neon sign behind him, Sirius would've thought he was in a 20s period drama.

'Excuse me,' he said, his voice coming out more gruffly than he intended. 'No interviews at the moment, please.'

'You ought to be surprised that you ran into an Englishman in the middle of Beijing, laddie.'

Sirius tried to walk past him. 'Didn't know Riddle was French,' he muttered. The old man blocked him.

'I'm Xenophilius Lovegood, chief editor of the Quibbler. I –'

'I'm in quite a hurry, if you'll excuse me,' Sirius said, controlling his temper. 'Also I said no interviews, so please let me go.' Though the old man had the upper hand of standing before him, Sirius was faster; he swiftly darted past him, secretly glad that his football skills were still here. The man was still babbling. Sirius wasn't going to stop until he said:

'You're dating Remus Lupin, aren't you?'

Sirius turned. 'W- what?'

'I did my research,' Lovegood said gleefully. Sirius racked his brain for any possibility that he might've leaked the news but couldn't find any. He was not Snape, though; he had been okay with being public from the start, so he simply shrugged.

A film slid out from the bottom of the camera. Lovegood examined it, looking satisfied, and then handed it over to Sirius. 'Could you sign it? My daughter is obsessed with Lupin.'

Sirius was amused, his moodiness diffusing. 'I don't look the slightest bit like him.' But he did it anyway and soon forgot about it. He had no idea that, a few weeks later, this trifle incident would slip its way back to him. It was a pleasant afternoon in London, yet Peter's serious face brought back the memory of Beijing, where the weather was downcast, and the sky shrouded by smog.

'What do you think?' he asked.

'Pure gibberish,' Sirius said, leafing through the magazine. It was titled The Quibbler, its pages curled and dotted with coffee stains. Peter had rescued it from a rubbish bin on his street when he walked by one day, and the title that was printed in bold had caught his attention.

'_Sirius Black and His Werewolf Boyfriend_,' Sirius read out loudly, 'what an eye catcher. Don't tell me you're asking for confirmation.'

'Not that.' Peter rolled his eyes and pointed at a picture at the bottom left corner. 'This.'

It was a picture with the resolution of the earliest films. Yet somehow, even with the heavy noise and over-exposure, Sirius could recognise one of the young boys in it was Remus. He hadn't changed a bit except he'd got lankier. Under it the caption read:

_Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were friends since childhood. Despite his secret identity as a werewolf, Black was very fond of him and had sworn on his life to protect him should anyone find out what he is. _

'I thought you never met Remus,' Peter said, confused. Sirius studied the picture closely; sitting knee to knee with Remus was a young boy with raven hair, whose face was hidden in the shadow, but his build was familiar, and the stuffed dog he was holding was his favourite childhood toy.

'I used to hang out with a bunch of wild boys, that's true – just to spite my mother, you know.' Sirius tilted his head to the side in mirrored puzzlement. 'And of course you know that's how me and James first met. Mother was furious when she found out so she enrolled me in a school far over in Scotland, only that James was there too,' Sirius snickered at the old memories. 'But Remus…? I don't remember ever seeing him.'

'Maybe he was one of them, you just didn't notice,' said Peter sensibly. 'To be fair, I wouldn't have recognised him if he wasn't a big star. His features are… well, frankly, they don't stand out as much as yours do.'

Sirius took the compliment with ease. He knew how stunning his features were. He read on:

_Every month, Lupin transforms at the full moon and Black covers for him. It is reported that Lupin is looking for a cure for his condition. In fact, his shooting a film in Los Angeles has been a sham for a visit to an old warlock who claims that he could cure him of it by a herbal therapy. Lupin will be delivered to a centre dedicated to protecting mythical creatures after that. The therapy will take about two weeks. _

Sirius checked the date of issue. It was released exactly two weeks before.

'A fat load of bullshit.' He clapped his hands and yawned. 'Should I go check if Remus is in London now?'

Peter spread his hands, meaning that it's _up to you bro, he's not my boyfriend so I don't get a say over it_. Sirius continued: 'He was just shooting at Griffith Park yesterday morning. One of the co-stars was Charles Kappman. You remember him from school? Remus sent me a snap of him doing a lap dance on Katy Robins. It was funny as hell.'

'It's not his duty to report to you where he is anyway. He's not your possession, just sayin'.' Peter shrugged, draining his glass.

If it had come from any other person, Sirius would've rounded on him and made him apologise. But it was Peter, and he knew that under the blunt words was a kind heart. 'Point is,' Sirius laughed, 'if he did come back for some werewolf therapy, and I the good boyfriend doing the cover for him as the mag suggested, I would've known, would I?'

He then told him about Xenophilius Lovegood which sent Peter into a fit of laughter. Apparently, if Peter was correct, The Quibbler was run by Lovegood and his daughter alone. The Lovegoods, who lived in Peter's neighbourhood, were well-known for their eccentricities. The magazines released monthly; and, according to Peter's mum, they were quite fit as coasters if you could tolerate the ink stains.

'I think they talked about zombies in London in their last issue,' said Peter at last. They went to the Potter's afterwards, Lily's bump currently the size of a balloon. Nothing could better conclude a week of work than spending time with their favourite people as Sirius and Peter indulged themselves in the dreams of godfathering the little thing; who, upon James's suggestion and Lily's approval, was to be named Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sirius's nose was only an inch from the muddy soil, ragged breaths taking in not only the oxygen he so needed to stand up and punch that boy in the face but the putridness and dirt of the earth. _

_'Remember this. I'm James. James Potter.' _

_'…Sirius Black.' _

_'That Sirius Black?' _

_'Exactly. Born a Black, die a Black. Now come finish me off.' _

_He waited forever for the blow to come, but it did not. A hand grabbed him on the shoulder, and he was pulled up (not so gently) to his feet. The boy with the glasses was looking at him intently. _

_'Do not mock me,' Sirius snapped. _

_James only grinned. 'I won, but you –' _

_Someone called him in the distance, possibly his nanny. For a second, James seemed worried; his nose wrinkled and did not finish whatever he was going to say. From that day onwards, Sirius Black and James Potter became inseparable. _

_Sirius looked back. The weak, coward boy whom he got into a fight with before James came was nowhere to be seen._ Puny being_, he thought derisively._

* * *

Sirius walked out of M&S, humming a tune. A lot of photo taking and signing made the five-minute walk from the supermarket to the car park triple its distance, but it didn't dampen his mood. It had been a nice day; James just called, he was going to the Potter's the coming weekend, and he was going to send Remus cakes and cookies – those fancy, small, individually wrapped ones – for Valentine's Day. The coming and going of passers-by reminded him of Remus's quick steps, the brown bricks on the pavement were Remus's tousled hair. And then, the slender figure standing with his back to him and his shoulders slightly slouched absolutely screamed to him –

'Remus!' Sirius blurted out, sprinting towards the familiar figure. 'What the bloody hell – !'

Remus turned swiftly, his expression surprisingly calm, almost sorry. 'Sirius.'

As daylight dimmed, the large poster box behind him flashed on with life. It was their film, _A Story under the Moon_, Sirius's nose and Remus's just inches apart on the poster, the sinking sun behind them. Under the smart title were words of praise; it had done very well so far. Three teenage girls bundled around it and were in an earnest discussion, completely unaware that the two actors concerned were just metres from them.

Sirius dragged Remus into a back alley. Despite the feeling of being betrayed, he allowed reason to take control of him first, which was a rare occasion. He looked him up and down, checking for sprouts of hair might stick out from his skin. Remus's eyes were as brown and bright as always, and it proved quite difficult for Sirius to connect them to that of a wolf's.

'How long have you been here?'

'Two hours.'

'And you never said a thing of it? Not when you checked in, not when you landed?'

'I'm sorry,' Remus looked down, 'I didn't want you to worry.'

'Yet here I am, running into you when I just got flour from the market for the cake I was going to bake you like your little bitch –' Sirius bit on his tongue, but it was too late. There was now something different about Remus's expression.

'I can explain,' he said after a while. 'I got news my mum's not doing too well so I wanted to check on her. I hope that doesn't make anyone any people's bitch.'

Remus said that with an apologetic smile, but wearing a smile was his default, thought Sirius. The bags under his eyes did not escape Sirius's notice. Guilt slapped him hard on the face. He took a deep breath, willing it not to show.

'You should've told me, I could've checked on her for you. Remus, I'm your _boyfriend, _for god's sake! Is she feeling better now? And – how did you explain to your crew?'

'I said I'd be back within a week.' Remus shrugged as if his new director didn't just say nasty things about him and his mother before he left the shooting.

'_Remus_,' Sirius tried, and then he gave up. He stalked away, the bag of flour heavy in his arms. Remus followed suit, and every time Sirius turned around a corner at the last chance possible, the convex mirrors at the road junctions reflected a sweaty Remus behind him. Sirius was stronger in physicality, his shoulder broader; if he really tried he could possibly have got rid of the dogged follower, but he let him be. At last, when they arrived on the doorstep of Sirius's house, Sirius flung open the door and walked straight into it, leaving the door open. He sat down and grabbed a bottle of beer from the mini fridge next to the sofa.

Remus crept into the living room quietly like a cat slinking into shadows. He sat opposite to Sirius, his legs bouncing. For a very long time no one spoke; Sirius kept sneaking glances at him every few minutes, and if someone asked him about the magazine he was reading, he wouldn't know a thing.

'Drink.' At last, Sirius slid a mug over to Remus, who was chewing his lips and seemed to be in a trance.

'I am truly very sorry, Sirius.'

Sirius stared steadily into his own mug. 'You should be sorry about yourself. You didn't have to keep it a secret. You knew I could've helped you with your mother, or whatever that's about. You're too hard on yourself. I said to you that you can let me in and share your burdens, I love you, it's true, but I start to think if that's just the my imagination that I fell in love with.'

Remus held his jacket tightly in front of his chest, looking almost petulant.

Sirius was disappointed, but the petulant, childlike side that Remus so rarely displayed gave a further tug at his heartstrings that were already singing Remus's name in a serenade. 'We've been here a lot, haven't we,' Sirius sipped his tea, 'if only you told me –'

'If only I –' Remus threw his jacket down furiously. He took a deep breath, calming himself down. 'If you want to break things off, it's okay.'

'Fuck you and your silly ninny brain, it's _not_ okay!' Sirius jumped, seizing him on the shoulders. 'Does breaking things off help you? Or your mother? This is beyond ridiculous, Remus. This is me coming to you as a friend, hoping you'd treat yourself better. James would say the same, Lily would hope you'd let out whatever is making you upset. I know some of the best doctors in the country, and whatever illness your mum is suffering from, it's always better to have all of us to help her than you bearing it all alone. Let us help you –'

'It'll pass,' said Remus stubbornly.

Sirius thought he started to see Remus in a clearer light. He'd always known Remus had stories – the random absence, the scars, the secrecy; as an adventurous lover, dating Remus sent him on a journey of discovery and thrill. He found excitement and satisfaction in cracking the aggressive, chill, often flirtatious veneer. Yet it seemed that he underestimated the problem: there were a lot of _more_ things going on beneath the calm surface, and now he was looking not only at a person he'd fancied for so long, but also a scarred soul who was trying to make things look right by acting when everything was wrong.

And Sirius had grown up in an abusive family. He knew what it was like when the world became so stifling that he'd want to let it drown him and be done with everything. He knew how it could break a person – the better the pretense, the faster they break. It was no fun and games but a pathogenic attempt at numbing oneself. If James and Peter had not been there to support him, he didn't dare imagine what would have happened to him. Here, he was much more than an inquisitive boyfriend – he was lending a helping hand to another person who was taking the same path as him years ago.

'Come on,' Sirius sat next to him and placed a firm hand on his. He put another arm around Remus, who sat with his legs up on the sofa, his chin on his knees. 'If there's anything we can do…'

He was unable to go on because a pair of thin lips had pressed hard against his own, and an intrusive hand had sneaked into his shirt, grabbing his waist. Instinctively, Sirius arched up so that the pair of legs now straddling him could fit better. Remus kissed like an animal: he was fierce, passionate, unstoppable. A trail of saliva dangled between their temporarily parted mouths. Sirius leaned, and licked it, and was promptly pressed back onto the sofa. His hand found the fly of his trousers, which was already very tight at the groin. Suddenly there was a smack on his reddened lips, and the weight on his lap lifted; Remus was on his side of the sofa, humming a tune.

'Ow!' Sirius yelped. 'What was that about?'

'Celebration. Our film is doing extremely well,' Remus said, stirring his tea as he added milk, completely unfazed. 'It broke the box office record in the first week.'

'It … it is,' Sirius said, flustered. He crossed his legs so that his bulge was well hidden. It was uncomfortable, and hopefully it wouldn't last long. 'James was a bit surprised. I mean, we never thought we could complete with those strong international franchises outside of the domestic market. We were wrong, though. And' – Sirius recalled his earlier conversation with James, and his spirits lifted a bit – 'a lot of critics suggest that we might wanna submit our film to the UK film fest. I do know quite a number of people have approached James and talked about it._ I_ personally reckon we might even go for the OSCARs. Think about it, you and I, best actor nominees … and, em, boyfriends very much in love.'

He eyed Remus cautiously. The tenseness in him had gone, thankfully. Maybe, like he said, it would pass. He didn't want to start another fight – he wanted to look on the brighter side when there was still light. Meanwhile, Remus seemed unconvinced. 'People are gonna laugh their heads off if we told them "hey you know what, you're gonna see us at the OSCARs" not one month after the film came out.'

Great, he cracked a joke. Better catch the tail of his good mood before it slipped away. 'You're no fun. We have been guests on the red carpet for a few years already – I mean, I have been, and I saw you a couple of times. I don't see why we shouldn't try to be more than just guests,' said Sirius, adding a chuckle as he did so. 'It doesn't harm trying. The mere thought of stepping on the red carpet makes me happy – my, I have to get my designers make a diamond suit for me this year!'

A short chuckle broke his fantasy; Remus was looking at him and shaking his head like a mother listening to his son's rambling. Sirius was glad that the miserable air had dissipated. He added earnestly: 'We will be there, alright? Together. We'll sort things out, and our film will make history, and we will be at the ceremony. The least we will do is try. Promise me that, okay?'

Remus smiled. Sirius had lost count of the times he smiled today.

* * *

Streetlight filtered into Sirius's bedroom through the blinds, painting stripes on the vast bed. There were sounds of someone fumbling through things in the living room; though that person must have been extremely careful in doing so, Sirius was good at picking up even the smallest sounds. He stuck out his hand to his left – it was empty, but still warm.

'Remus?'

The name came out slurred and muffled. There was no reply, just as Sirius half-expected. Between the few moments of waking, and before Sirius could muster the energy to call out a second time, there was a faint click of door closing, and the house fell silent.

'_Remus_?' This time, Sirius shot up from the bed like a spring. He looked at the clock. It was twenty past nine. _So I slept three hours then, after I caught Remus on the street and talked a bit_.

A sudden panic rose from the pit of his stomach. He darted into the living room. Remus's jacket was still here. His backpack lay lazily on the patio, bathing in the night breeze. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief – so he wasn't gone, not yet, but where did he go?

It only took him a second to make up his mind. Biting his lip, he hastily put on a crumpled tee that had been lying around since last week. It reeked of sweat and alcohol. He didn't forget to grab a cap and a pair of sunglasses before he darted past the door. Fortunately Sirius didn't live in the most populous part of London. The good thing about this was that people and crowds were not a problem here, and streets were straight and wide, unlike the labyrinths in central London. Remus's figure was easily recognisable even in the distance. His shoulders were tight, and his back stiff. He seemed to be talking on the phone.

Sirius crept along behind him. He felt guilty and disgusted. The truth was that his feelings for Remus had started to go beyond crushing and desire. It had felt so different than all he had felt before when he asked him out – he wondered if this was love. But aren't lovers – if this is what they were – supposed to trust each other? Yet here they were, him trailing after his boyfriend. A stab of pain shot through him as realisation dawned on him: that he didn't trust Remus any more than Remus trusted him.

Remus could've been out to the groceries. He could've been out for a walk. Sirius could've called him, and if he gave a reasonable enough excuse, he should have his private time.

But then – Remus had come back from LA, and he didn't even bother to give him an excuse. If Sirius hadn't run into him, he wouldn't have been involved. Or, to put it more precisely, it shouldn't have involved Sirius at all from the start. He was, from the moment that Remus got onto the plane, an outsider after all.

Yet stubbornness was the dormant gene in Sirius. The more he knew it wasn't supposed to go like this, the more he would aim to make it happen. _At least be a witness when I'm not the player. _A lump had lodged in his throat – the mixed emotions of fury, despair, doubt and hurt, he had prepared for the worse. Whatever it was that Remus was doing, he would like to find out _why_. If he was seeing another person, then it would be_ Sirius's _place to break things off, not his.

They got in the Tube. Remus took the quietest line. They passed Westminster, Euston and King's Cross, those places that Sirius thought were good for a date. He sneaked a look across a carriage. Remus was on the bench, his expression grim, far from the happiness and excitement he should feel for a date. Sirius was almost sorry that he had assumed the worst of him. But then, again, all had yet remained to be seen.

Memories caught up to Sirius the moment he stepped out of the station. He had been here before – situated on the border between the busiest zones of London, it was an odd bar was obsessed with charade. That night here as a masked lion, Spandex, the cheap alcohol – all these seemed so distant, so far away.

Remus disappeared behind a corner. Sirius swore under his breath. A public bathroom stood was there, a place where people got changed. It was buzzing the same way the little bar was; groups of people that were, for a night, nameless, genderless, were coming out from the bathroom, in for a magical night at the bar. Sirius hadn't got anything more than the basics with him. In all fairness, he didn't expect he'd be here.

He crouched behind a bush and waited. With all the masks and things on people, it was hard to single out Remus. Another crowd came out, and another. And then there were groups of three and four. Twenty minutes had passed, and Sirius had not been able to locate whether Remus was still in the bathroom, or if he had slipped out under his nose. But Sirius felt he was so close to the answer – the truth – what was Remus's business here? Why didn't he go to his mum's, if he came back all the way from LA just to check on her?

He needed to solve the puzzle, to piece it together. Taking a deep breath, he walked out from the bush and strode straight into the bathroom.

It was quiet, stinky and damp. The walls were dotted brown with mould, a dim light bulb hung listlessly on the ceiling where scrapes of plaster came away, a few bulges here and there looked like dunes in a desert. Near the entrance was a large rubbish bin overflowing with paper towel and drink bottles and cans, and some old costumes that must have been left behind by party-goers. No one was in sight.

Sirius wrung his hands, went over, and took out the costume that was closest within his reach. It was purple, the head and tail of a T-Rex hanging loosely on it. It was still in good shape despite the stain and the very fact that it had been found in a rubbish bin in a public toilet. Pinching his nose, Sirius put it on.

If anyone had recognised T-Rex, they didn't comment on his reappearance. It only meant that the owner of T-Rex had been gone quite some time, and the costume had been sitting in the bin longer than Sirius thought. He found an empty table farthest from the makeshift stage, an area cleared out by moving a few tables away. A barmaid dressed up as Ariel the mermaid managed not to trip herself as she attended to Sirius, but it was obvious that she would rather stay out of this area lest the scallops on her tits fall out. Sirius was grateful for that. The inconvenience shielded him from unwanted companionships and offered clear view of the whole bar.

Sirius drank, ate peanuts, and drank again. It made him stand out so oddly, the way he was drinking alone when everyone got together. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for – what, for Remus to tore off his costume and show his face? He half hoped that if Remus did come here alone, he would come over and maybe they'd strike up another talk like last time.

''Lo,' someone said. It was a girl's voice. 'Alone tonight?'

He never got his hopes up, but still he was disappointed. 'No,' he lied, 'my friend is in the loo.' _Please go away._

'Oh,' she said. After a while, she continued, 'I don't think you have to wait for her. She's fucking someone. I saw her.'

Not knowing what else to say, Sirius shrugged. 'Oh.'

Silence ensued. Sirius kept watching the scene, and she sipping her gin, bit by bit.

'Bit annoying, isn't it, when you come drinkin' and she has her own fun. Why ask me in the first place?'

'I suppose she just wants company.' Sirius shrugged again.

'Right.'

She popped all the peanuts into her mouth at once. Sirius let her. He didn't like peanuts anyway. In the distance, someone in a gauzy butterfly suit was waving at her. Must be her friend, he thought. He put down his glass. 'I should go. Enjoy your night.'

His gaze swept the bar one last time, and then he made up his mind. If Remus was here, Sirius was unable to pick him out. He sighed, shaking his head free from the headwear. He didn't know him after all, did he? Neither by appearance nor by heart. The backdoor through where he was going to exit was uninviting, but he had to go. It was getting late. Shots of colourful lights reflected on the heavy metal door, there was not a hint of its usual silver colour, not when it was night and the bar buzzing, coming to life. It was all an illusion.

The metal door gave before he pushed it, and Sirius's world froze. A man was going to enter the bar from the outside. He was shorter, his frame smaller, his body leaner; his hair was the same shade as Sirius's, his eyes mercurial under the eyebrows that arched elegantly in the middle, making him a sadder, calmer, less passionate version of Sirius himself, but they were no doubt of the same origin.

At once, it was the like walls of Grimmauld Place were closing around them, the ancient portraits their only companies. The marks of time dissolved into the air, and Sirius was eleven years old again, his brother ridiculously short, like a black kitten; yes, his brother –

Regulus Black froze the same way Sirius did; it was a wonder how brothers, though apart for a long time, would subconsciously mirror each other. Sirius's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His throat was dry, and his windpipe seemed to be constricting against his will; before he managed to open his mouth a second time, Regulus had turned swiftly away and run. Sirius's finger had only grazed the hem of his jacket.

It must be him. It could not _not_ be. It simply could _not_. If there were any face that Sirius could recognise in a heartbeat, no matter how time had washed down its innocence, and childish happiness, leaving only gloomy maturity behind, it could only be Regulus's.

'Hey, are you okay?'

Sirius looked up, and only then did he realise how nauseous he had been feeling. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He had known Regulus was living in the same city as him, breathing the same as he did; he'd got the company business card, and if he had wanted, he would've been able to see him. They'd talked, over a year ago, on the phone. Sirius had asked him about Remus Lupin, his competitor for the same role then. And now –

'Hey, hey, maybe you need to sit down for a bit.' A soft hand was on his arm, guiding him out of the bar. The door led out to a back alley, but there was a lamppost, and he was asked to sit down against the wall. He stared at his shoes. Regulus was larger than he thought. He'd expected him not to grow after thirteen. The faint stubbles, where light cast on and made shadows below them on his chin was a stinging sight. Sirius wiped his eyes, and was surprised that the back of his hand was wet.

'Water?' A glass was shoved into his hand. A woman in a gaudy butterfly dress sat down beside him. She was the friend of the girl that had sat at his table, Sirius recognised. Her butterfly mask was down; silver hair that had been bleached to the roots cascaded off her head like a waterfall.

'I see you've met my boss,' she said, like it explained everything.

'Who?'

'Regulus Black.' She lit a cig. 'You're Sirius, aren't you?'

Sirius straightened his back, declining the cigarette offered. 'What? You –?'

'I am Marion McMillan, Regulus's assistant. He owns this bar. I don't have to pay here.' She shrugged. 'I didn't want to reveal myself, but you looked like you were going to faint.'

Sirius nodded mechanically. 'Thanks.'

'But since we are here, let's talk about Remus Lupin.'

Sirius's heart missed a beat. He wondered if Regulus had followed up on his request after all. 'Yes?'

'To answer your question, no, Regulus didn't do anything after your call, but he did enter a record, and I happened to have a glimpse of what the whole business was about. Incidentally, I have long been interested in the mysterious Remus Lupin. Greatest actor of our generation, one of the highest-paid stars in Hollywood,' she took a long drag, white fume blurring the outline of her face under the streetlight, 'yet who he is, what he did before fame, where he came from – no one knows for sure.'

'N… no,' Sirius stammered. Marion turned slowly, looking at him. There was a gleam in her eyes. It made him very uncomfortable, like he was being undressed in front of her, and he was standing naked, baring everything, his thoughts and emotions included.

'I don't know anything about him,' Sirius said bitterly. 'He won't tell.'

'I figured,' she said. 'There's a reason why Regulus wouldn't take the job. Do you think you're the only one who asked for that?'

Sirius studied her. Young, pretty, she was probably the same age as him. 'So you're his fan?'

'Not really,' she smiled, the corners of her eyes exotically hooded. Sirius wondered if she had some foreign blood. 'I'm more into brunettes.'

Something about the way she laughed made Sirius's hair stand. But this was a golden chance; if he missed it, god knows when he'd catch it again.

'Is it possible –' he asked before the idea could slip away, its roots claw-like and growing fast,' – that you resume the case?'

'What do you mean?' Marion tilted her head. 'Regulus won't do it.'

'No, I mean, just you. You keep it from Regulus,' Sirius clarified. 'I say this as his older brother, as a boyfriend, and as your client. That I do not want my brother's intervention. I want to know what is bothering him, what he is dealing with that makes him disappear all the time, and why he's so stressed. I … do this because I want him to be happy.'

_I want to satisfy my curiosity. I want to know that, if he is cheating, why I am not good enough for him, what I haven't done enough. I want to know _him_._

'I want him to be happy,' Sirius repeated.

Marion seemed to have decided the conversation was over. She stood up, snubbing the out the cig with the heel of her shoe before putting on a long trench coat. Sirius was a bit disappointed, yet a strange feeling of relief was taking over him. Not for long, though.

'Alright,' Marion said, and that broke the teetering dam that had holding back the darkness within. 'I'll see what I can do.'


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius stumbled back all the way home. Buildings, concrete, walls and lampposts were no longer straight lines but curves and balls, colours flashed and whirled in a dizzying spiral. Every time he lifted his feet and took another step, it took him immense effort as though he was walking on a swamp.

The dark inside the massive house was inviting like it had always been, a haven from the outside world and chaos. But tonight, it felt slightly different – the dark was tinted with a wisp of slyness. It was an unusually hot summer. Obviously, whatever Remus had been, Sirius was quicker. The house was exactly as he had left it, not an object had been moved, as though the heat had melted and cast them to the very spot they were occupying. Sirius opened the door further, expelling the darkness, letting cold air in. He stepped over shirts and magazines and tabloids that spread across the floor, towards the bathroom. He desperately needed a shower to clear his mind. He took the showerhead from its holder, his skin scorching against the cool of the metal. And then he changed his mind. He ran the tap instead. He watched, as water slowly filled up to the brim.

He hadn't turned on the light. City lights spilled in from the little window, making faint reflections of green and neon and blue in the water. The sound of his breathing, as well as water splashing, and the distant echoes of the whirring in the pipes were his medicine, a hypnotic chant. He was roused back to reality when the front door clicked open, and Remus came in. A plastic bag was dangling from his hand, and the enticing smell of curry that was no doubt coming from the bag filled the house in no time. He put a hand against the wall for guidance and moved slowly at the switch.

'Oh!' He hit a bookshelf. But when he took a closer look, the bag of takeaway nearly dropped. He had bumped into a startlingly silent Sirius who was standing next to shelf, his arms crossed over his chest, a towel around his waist.

A drop of sweat dangled on the tip of Remus's chin. 'Dinner?'

There was a quiver in his voice.

If air could conduct, it would be buzzing with electricity; a current charged with millions of questions and unsatisfying answers. Sirius moved over as quietly and adroitly as a black cat, his towel hanging precariously on his hip bone. His scorching lips pressed hard against Remus's, only to find his equally, if not more scorching. It was like coal with fire, fuel on flames. The bag finally dropped, and so did Sirius's towel. He fumbled at Remus's groin, touched it, squeeze it, caressed it; he hadn't done it a lot of times, but he could well remember the shape of it, the positions of moles and scars, and map it out with his eyes closed. He could – he could –

'Ouch!' Remus backed away. He wiped his lips with a shaking hand. The sudden influx of oxygen filled Sirius's lungs with a sharpness that only prickled at his nerves so that they felt more,_ more_ – every cell, every atom; every frequency of emotions, every lift and plunge of hormones. He pried Remus's hand from his chest – Remus let him after some pulling and pushing – his digits long and thin, the right size for Sirius's tongue to draw a circle on the tip, tasting slick, salty saliva and blood. The drop of sweat that had been hanging on Remus's chin had mingled with the thin stream of blood from his broken lip, forming a pink line all the way down his neck and loose white vest. Sirius was quite satisfied; it was marked, at last, by_ his_ doing and his blood.

Remus bit his lip. More blood oozed out. He looked uneasily at the fallen curry. 'Maybe we should –'

Sirius growled. '_Maybe?_'

Remus bared his teeth. They were lined with red. 'Then what?'

'You – you –' Sirius heaved. Rationality and common sense were long gone, what was left were natural, innate, near-animalistic instincts. They were breathing hard, hot air swept across their faces and formed a thin veil between them. Neither of them said a word for a long time; both were waiting for the other to speak, but both lacked an initiative and courage to break the thick air. Sirius braced himself for a blow, a punch, or whatever; when none came, and the tiny creak of an imaginary door that had opened closed again, he threw – or was thrown – against the bed. There was some rolling over and arching, and at last, he ended up pulling Remus into a headlock, wedging a leg between his. Remus's expression had closed. He looked up, his chin slightly stuck out, the jaw muscles wobbling under thin skin as they clenched and unclenched, his mouth thinned into a hard line.

'Just do it,' he said stubbornly with closed eyes, 'what are you waiting for?'

Sirius hissed – it was a long and piercing hiss that shot through the air, slicing open the heat. The bed was springy; as a train rocketed through it squeaked and rattled in a rhythm that matched nothing but the rapid clicking of gears as the jutting cogs pushed at the accommodating sockets in an almost grating manner. This tore an edge; at last lava erupted with so great a force that the earth gave in to the hollow within.

* * *

It was the fifth time the bloody phone rang. Every muscle was sore, and every movement hurt. Next to Sirius, Remus turned, but since he did not stop snoring, it meant that he hadn't been disturbed.

'Fuck, James. It's fucking one in the morning.'

'Not quite. It's ten to one.'

'Don't you have a fucking baby to sing lullaby to?'

'Lily did. She's asleep. Anyway, is Remus around?'

Sirius peeked at his boyfriend. His was lying on his back, his abdomen was flat – all skin and scars, and not an ab – and red with the afterheat of an intense orgasm. Sirius looked away quickly. 'Yes, he came back this evening.'

'Right, okay.' He could literally hear James's grin. 'I just wanted to tell you that we're throwing a party on Saturday. –No, you stupid arse. I'm talking of a real party, not just the usual Marauders gathering. The old crowd is coming as well. – What for? Well, it's been years since we last saw everyone! Some distinguished guests as well, I dare say. Bring Remus, Sirius, everybody's gonna love him. He's back, you say?'

Sirius put a hand over the speaker. It was more a gesture than a meaningful act. Remus was deep asleep. 'I'm not sure he'd like that. He's not quite an extrovert. Meeting new people makes him anxious.

'Even then, consider it a good opportunity. Lots of directors and producers are gonna be there.'

'Oh, so you're inviting him only because it's economically advantageous to do that,' Sirius said accusatorily. He felt anger on Remus's behalf – he was surprised he still did that. It meant he still saw Remus as someone he cared about. _But you don't trust him._ He quickly blocked out the thought. 'Besides,' he added hastily, 'I didn't know you'd turned _our_ private hangout into a political show.'

James finally had the decency to sound ashamed. 'It was an impromptu decision. At first it was just Marlene and Benjy, but then Dorcas heard the news and said she wanted to come too, bringing along Benedict, Hestia, Imogen, Victor… so basically a form gathering. And then, you know, Victor's dad is a film producer as well, he knows some seniors who are very keen to meet the new generation of actors… so yeah.'

Sirius sighed inwardly. It was part of being a celebrity, having to attend a million shows and parties and tea for a living. On the other hand, though, he'd missed his old friends. It would be a golden opportunity to connect to them again, and as James said, the possibility to collaborate on projects. 'Alright, alright, I'll ask him.'

'Thanks mate, and please tell him that he's welcome to any Marauder's gathering in the future,' James replied sheepishly.

Sirius decided to break the news to Remus tomorrow, when the heat would hopefully be lower.

* * *

When James said a party at his, Sirius did not expect a real party. He expected schoolboy banners and sofas and beers and pop songs and sex (not public sex, just the type where two people got very very drunk and sneaked upstairs and banged). What Sirius and Remus walked into was no longer the Potter's living room, but a rather grand hall with flowers and balloons and confetti everywhere. Sirius applauded his last minute change of attire as he nearly wore the sweat-soaked white vest in which he had probably done some inappropriate things.

'McKinnon,' Sirius greeted as the a girl put down her plate piled full with fries and chicken wings, hugging Sirius so tightly that he was nearly out of breath.

'Oi, Dr McKinnon now,' Marlene McKinnon said with a pout. 'I obtained a PhD in French Literature.' She turned to Remus. 'And … oh!'

'Marlene, Remus. Remus, Marlene.' As he said this, he put a hand around Remus's waist.

'Nice to meet you,' Marlene shook hands with Remus and told him earnestly how she'd been dying to meet him since she first saw him on screen. Remus humbly returned her compliments, and since he was particularly impressed by some recent French musical whose producer happened to be Marlene's close friend, the two promptly struck up a surprisingly pleasant chat.

Glad and relieved, Sirius left for the crowd of people in the centre of which was James, knowing that Marlene would put every effort in making Remus comfortable. He soon joined his best friend, and it was like they were back in school again; only, since it wasn't a student-only gathering, there was no as much swearing and more profession-related talks. Sirius was most surprised when James introduced their mentor, Alastor Moody. They were not exactly on good terms in school – while the Marauders were celebrity pranksters, Moody was _very_ strict. He used to be a police officer; the lengths he'd go to punish a student who misbehaved had scared James so much that he'd shat his pants once. But as they grew out of the rebellious teenage phase, they realised that a roughest man often had the softest heart in him.

Having greeted him with the warmest words, and Moody returning with a grunt and 'Been a while, Black', Sirius took the old man's arm in his, guiding him towards the table.

'I can fetch the best ophthalmologist for you, you know. I have friends from all over the world.' Sirius pulled out a chair, laying his cane beside him.

Moody's laugh sounded like a lion's roar, the scars on his face stretching. 'It isn't the first day I'm a blind man, Black. Better get used to it.'

'You were pretty intimidating still.'

'Ha! I caught you sleeping in class with my left eye, didn't I?' Moody's eyes widened. While his right eye, which had been blinded long ago, the very reason he retired from the police force and went to teach drama, was listless and dull, his left was moving minimally with a faint white spot in the middle of his iris. Sirius remembered it was clear a few years ago; his admiration for his old mentor only doubled.

'You must have wondered how I managed to teach drama when I was half blind myself – well, nearly all blind now,' continued Moody. Behind him was a large empty wall which the Potter had made it a makeshift projector screen;_ Gone with the Wind_ was playing, the black and white tones adding a touch of nostalgia to the thriving party. 'The secret is that, I don't see. I feel. Seeing is deceptive; the prettiest woman can turn out to be the deadliest snake, but the ugliest man can turn out to be the bravest hero.'

'But isn't deception the whole point of acting?'

'You think so? To act is not to deceive; it is to reveal parts of you that you don't normally show. Real actors act with their hearts. In every character they play, they put a small part of themselves. It is not uncommon that co-stars fall in love, and this may be the reason why. I have found myself see clearer, deeper since my vision started to deteriorate, though; it is not always you see with eyes.'

It was a rare moment, as Sirius pondered his mentor's words and companionable silence stretched. Just then he saw Remus looking for him, so he waved, announcing:

'Alastor, you must meet my – boyfriend. Everyone calls him the legendary Remus Lupin.'

Though relieved by a long kiss in the morning, and Remus's breaking the silence first, and asking if he'd want a mug of coffee, the awkward silence had not completely dissipated, but a proper introduction was only polite and appropriate. Yes, Snape had told them not to come out as a couple for as long as the film was out in the market, but he didn't exactly forbid them to act couple-y. Fans liked that. Besides, it was a private party with no audience involved, and Sirius had no qualms being just himself in front of Moody, who, upon hearing the introduction and seeing a vague shadow out of his half-seeing eye, rose to his feet.

'The legendary Remus Lupin, of course,' Moody was nodding, 'I've heard about him. Potter and Evans talked about him a lot.'

'They sure do. Remus is an excellent asset to our film,' Sirius said, momentarily forgot how passionately he had hated him for coming at the same role. 'But he can be quite aggressive as well. I think he's quite cute like that.'

'Who is quite cute like what?' Remus, who had evidently heard Sirius, finally made his way through the dancing crowd. 'Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr… um…?'

Sirius turned to his mentor, who looked as if his dead ancestors turned up alive.

'Alastor? Is everything alright?'

It only took half a second for Moody to snap out of his reverie. 'Yes, yes. You remind me of someone, that's what. I must have mistaken you for him.' The matter resolved in a cheerful manner, and they three went on to have a long talk (mainly Sirius and Moody retelling their schooldays, and Remus listening) before Remus excused himself as Marlene had come back looking for him. It was reasonable for Moody not to recognise the new generation of actors, Sirius thought, as the old man had retired from teaching since his vision went down. But if you talked to him about older films and literature, the knowledge he possessed could beat that of ten seeing men's added up together.

Just then a round of applause broke out from the garden where a group was sitting in a big circle, and Sirius took Moody to the party. Under the dim lights of the newly hung party lanterns, there were Benedict and his squad and some seniors. Sirius recognised Eliot Moran, a renowned retired journalist who was the author of a series of celebrity biographies. The atmosphere was mostly peaceful until Moran mentioned Albus Dumbledore, and this attracted some intrigued minds as well as a stubborn Moody who refused to leave.

'I heard Dumbledore was an unusual man,' Benedict was saying, 'I regret not going to the premiere a few years ago. That was his last one.'

'He was a board member of our school,' said Dorcas quickly. 'Not that we'd seen him much.'

The Hogwarts alumni agreed with her. It seemed, being the storyteller of so many people, that it was reasonable Moran knew something that not even Dumbledore's students did. Sirius leaned in; he glanced towards his mentor, who had worn the most serious expression. The whole garden quieted down, earnestly waiting as though for a play; and, not wasting a moment more, Morgan cleared his throat. He started with Dumbledore's birth and his childhood, moving on to his teenage years and his later achievements; even Sirius felt enamoured. Over the circle, opposite from him and Moody was Remus. Somehow he'd seen the gathering crowd in the garden and managed to sneak over.

And there came the climax: 'But, even after his death, the myth that he was a completely different person back then is still there. The most controversial, and the most known story, is perhaps his friendship with Gellert Grindelwald, the Godfather of the Italian Mafia.' Here he began the tale of the two men, which quite took their breaths away, but he did not forget to reassure his audience 'the past is in the past, Dumbledore handed Grindelwald over to the prison himself', and he had nothing to do with the illegal side since.

There was a long silence. And then: 'He should not have acted the way he was,' Benedict said quietly.

Marlene's eyes were bright. 'Didn't you hear? He had nothing to do with Grindelwald anymore.'

'But he was involved with his sister's death – don't look at me like that, none of us here, not even you, Mr Morgan, no offence – know who or what or how his sister died, and what happened between him and the head of a terrorist group. But we never heard him talk about it, as if it didn't happen at all.

'He owed no one what happened in _his _past.'

'Not when he was the one of the most powerful figure in the most influential industry ever. Why, he even got a few Golden Globes for the police roles he played. You can't deny that those who watched him growing up – myself included, have looked up to him like he was really the police officer who took justice into his own hands.'

And then someone said next to Sirius. 'That's why he was a great actor. You think it's easy to take justice into your own hands?'

Sirius jumped. It was Moody. His voice was like metals clanking and grating against each other – to be honest, not very pleasant to hear, but the quality of it did make it stand out in the dark. He had got to his feet, his cane tapping lightly.

Moran nodded. 'Hello, Alastor. Eliot here. Come here and join me?'

'I'd rather stand.'

His eyes were dull, but there were something in them that spoke volumes.

'You must know something, then,' said Eliot Moran. He was indeed good at reading people. 'I heard he retired and became an actor, but the things that happened in between… I have no idea.'

'Of course you don't,' Moody growled, 'but my eyes do.'

Moran sat up, his expression solemn. 'Let's hear it.'

So Moody, straightening his back and smoothing the creases of his vest, began in a solemn voice:

'Mad-Eye Moody is most well-known for his eye. Interestingly, Mad-Eye Moody is blind. But he hasn't always been like that. Not at the start, at least.

'Some fifteen years ago, Dumbledore and I both worked in the law enforcement department. We graduated from the same school but weren't acquainted before. He was cleverer, and more alert, and cheerful, so he rose quickly and became my head. We were friends though – some connection was formed that was omitted in school, drowned by impossible teenage dreams and exams. He'd always tell me what was on his mind, and he even told me a few words about Grindelwald. He said he didn't regret the friendship but was sad to see his friend go. He had not been in contact with him since his sister died. I said I understood because I was in a similar situation. I had a falling out with a close friend years ago, the difference was that, while Grindelwald was well and alive and growing his terrorist group in Europe, my friend was long dead.

'He comforted me and told me the reason he had all these thoughts all of a sudden was that, with Grindelwald's increasing influence, gangs were forming and claimed that they were under his command, and the government wanted them hunted down before they matured. He asked me if I wanted to go, and I agreed. There were two reasons I did. The first was that I didn't want to sit in the office and sip coffee all day, the second reason being the region I was to be dispatched to was where my old friend had lived, at least from what I gathered. In those years that we pretended the other did not exist, he got married, moved house, and had a child. That was all I know; not even the name of the child or an address. But still I went, hoping I'd catch something.

'What awaited me was the fate of having to retire and to be an invalid at the age of forty-eight. I paid a visit to the old house, which of course was sold already, and successfully tracked down a few active gangs in the region. I was going to arrange the arrests and follow-up with my team, but somehow the gangs got wind first. One night, when I returned to the hostel from a bar, I thought I saw someone following me. I turned to stare at the opposite direction, but nothing came, so I kept walking. But you know, a drunk man is never to be trusted. After a crossroad, I tripped on something. Later I was told I tripped on a rope that someone had pulled tight. I was furious, but I was very drunk, and then a gang broke out – all teenagers, their voices still high and childish – they started stamping on me and beating me with planks and sticks and bricks. I don't remember a lot. With that drunk a mind wasn't the most useful to recall the last moments of the world I saw.'

There was only stifling silence. Sirius stared at his mentor mutely – a man with scars crisscrossing on his cheeks and dull eyes. He dared not breathe out loud for the fear it would disturb the moment for Moody, a memory he had probably had never shared. But why was he telling it now? –In defence of Dumbledore?

Moody continued: 'It was the most horrible moment. Knowing you should duck and fight back, only your limbs aren't at your command. After that, I lay there for I don't know how long, thinking I would bleed out for sure. My eyes hurt a lot, and there was this buzzing sound in my head that wouldn't go away. I saw only black, but I could feel thick liquid – which must be blood, because I knew the smell – pooling around my feet, which were broken at the shins. At last someone came – a young boy, I think, and I was delivered to the nearest hospital. Later, it was made known to me that it would be impossible for me to continue my career at the department; and Dumbledore, being the head of the movement, was held accountable for my injury and had been removed from the department. He offered to pay for my medical expenses – I declined; it was my choice to take part in the operation. Besides, what would be the point of laying the blame on him?'

Sirius was not entirely sure he agreed with him. Whatever had happened, it could not be denied that Dumbledore's lack of thorough investigation of the situation had contributed to the tragedy. He felt a deep respect as well as sympathy for his mentor. Fortunately, for Moody as well as his audience, the saddest part was over; what ensued was how he went back to school to get a master and re-familiarise himself with drama and theatre, and Sirius knew without needing to hear the rest, that it was achieved by joining the teaching staff of the most popular drama school in England.

Sirius got himself another can of beer and spaghetti from the kitchen. Relieved from melancholy, the circle in the garden had switched to playing mass games. Remus wasn't there. He must have left sometime during Moody's story. Sirius missed him desperately. It was a new discovery that, despite being around his old friends, Remus was the bay where he moored away from the wild nights. But his misery didn't last long; Lily and Peter were hosting a baby talk behind the sofa, and they were holding a photograph of a young Peter and laughing. Sirius walked over and joined them.

When the party was over, and everyone satisfied – whether it was Moran, who got to hear a story he never heard, or Benedict, whose curiosity was met with an end, or even James, who had not been among those who gathered in the gathering, but felt that the impromptu home party had done him proud – they all agreed it was time to disband. Sirius waited until the mass had gone to give the Potters and Peter a good hug before he left looking for Remus, who he had not seen since Moran's storytelling and who he suspected had been hiding in some cabinet or corner to avoid socialising. At last, to Sirius's surprise, it was in the hallway that he found Remus, but he was not alone. He was leaning against the wall, while Moody had his both hands on the cane.

'Made friends?' Sirius walked up to them. Apparently they were not expecting him: Moody, who had made a habit on relying on his hearing, snapped up his head more quickly than Sirius had ever seen him. Sirius had a strange feeling that some unsaid intelligence had passed between them that neither mentioned what they had been talking about before he arrived.

Moody suddenly laughed, long and loud. 'Very well. I see why Potter picked you as partners on his film.' He raised his chin at Sirius. 'And you. Don't disappoint me, Black.'

It wasn't until Sirius and Remus were on the street, and Sirius took out the car key, that Sirius asked, out of the million questions he had been hoarding in his head: 'Did you have a good time?'

'Yes,' Remus said simply, leading the way and taking out his phone. He switched on the flashlight to see through the haze that seemed to have descended when they were partying. They settled quickly.

It started raining. Sirius started tapping on the steering wheel. The tapping, as well as the patter of rain that was slowly building up in a crescendo, were oddly disturbing inside the metal shell of the little car. Sirius waited, and waited; nothing but the roar of wind and flashing of lights came. Remus had taken the back seat, and all Sirius saw on the rearview mirror was a lump of grey and black. Ahead of him, the headlights were strong; but the rapidly falling rain chopped them into faint, sickly glow bands struggled to reach into the distance. Sirius drove very carefully, but he could not beat God; suddenly the tyre gave out, and with a final screech, the car sank to the floor.

It was way past midnight. London was busy, but not in its suburban regions. Right now, where they were, not even a streetlamp was on – save Mother Earth, they said.

'Do you know where we are?'

'Near mine,' Remus replied. 'Another twenty-minute walk will do.'

'In a weather like this?'

'Not ideal, I admit. But it will do.'

Sirius checked his calendar. 'And you're taking…'

'The 6am tomorrow. Which gives me approximately four hours to pack and get myself ready.' Right, he still had to go back to LA for work. Sirius nearly forgot. Remus had stuck out a leg, and in the few seconds that he maneuvered his body, the fabric was soaked with rain inside out. But something had lodged in Sirius, and it was so necessary, so urgent that despite the rain and time and everything, Sirius reached out and held his hand, looking into Remus's eye since the first time he came back, pleading: 'Don't go.'

Remus let out a sigh. It crystallised in the summer air into a haze. Rain had plastered his brown hair to his forehead, and drops of water were hanging on his eyelashes like beads on curtains. 'Sirius, love…'

Sirius shivered. Remus, unlike him, rarely used any terms of endearment.

'– you know we are – impossible.' A pause, and then: 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry –'

Thunder drowned him out, but it didn't drown out Sirius: 'Bullshit!'

Water ran down Remus's cheekbones like curtains; it was hard to tell how much of it was from the sky, and how much was it was from those searching eyes: ' – owe you. I should never have said yes, Sirius, I'm sorry. Let me go. You don't deserve this –'

'Why? Why now?' Sirius pulled, but he could hardly overpower Remus, who had the upper hand of standing and a determined mind aided by a lifetime of emotional control and heart-breaking rationality. 'Was it something Moody said? What did he say to you?' A tremble took Remus, and he shook his head along with the rest of his body that was shivering from cold. Sirius grabbed harder. Anger he had been suppressing caught up like a shooting rocket – 'Was it James's party? He is a fucking useless, snobbish, pretentious twat! – He never should've asked us to his stupid party!' –Remus just kept shaking his head, his hand retreating inch by inch –'Was it Benedict Kirke? He's a dumbass! –I'll fucking skin him alive! –'

'–Do you not understand, Sirius? –' Remus's jacket peeled off, and inside it, on him, was the white vest that was stained with a trail of pink. '– I was the gangster who made Moody blind – It was me who set the rope trap, and tricked him into following me – no, don't say anything. I don't want to hear it. I don't expect I'll be ever forgiven – but I beg you to make my last memory of you less painful than it already is.'

There was a falter, a flash, a thunder; Remus flung, jerking his hand back, and Sirius's slipped, hitting the steering wheel. The tyres gave a screeching protest against the brake and the gravels. When his senses returned, there were only him and his car in the pouring rain, the world a dead, whirling grey.


	10. Chapter 10

Part II

The last time Spandex had been Spandex, he met the nemesis of his life. Memories of that night haunted him – what _had _he said and done? And he'd taken a masked stranger to his house who could have turned out to be anyone! It was extremely lucky that the man was drunk as hell and couldn't tell left from right. Oh, how his own alertness had gone down since after…! Bitterness rose up his throat, and he tightened his grip on the tumbler. Yet if the occasion presented to him again, he wouldn't have left the stupid fuck drunk like that in the street. He was soft-hearted. He always had been.

Tonight, in the same bar, in the same costume, Spandex was among the come-and-go crowd of drinkers who had a thing for the tradition of the little bar. But it seemed that the guests here had another thing in common; they were fans of Sirius Black, and here they were having their monthly fans meetup. Spandex sat close and listened in.

'… as much as Sirius and Remus seem an adorable couple, I can't see them together in real life. It's simply too good to be true,' said a small woman clad in a blood-stained wedding dress.

'Why not? I swear I saw them the other day. In a restaurant in Covent Garden, entering just fifteen minutes apart. And when I went up to ask for a picture, they refused to take a selfie with me together. If there wasn't something between them, they didn't have to be like that. Just go in at the same time and say "hey we're friends and we're having lunch." How difficult would that be?'

There were nods around the table. Spandex leaned in curiously. 'Not to mention the interviews we've seen them doing. The atmosphere is just… weird, as though there is something that cannot be asked. Granted, it must be the contract that requires them to say good things about each other, what they have been doing is simply over-the-top. All that "he's so sweet", "he's the most patient person I've ever met", and "Moony" – oh god, what even is Moony?'

'Well – but I've heard Sirius doesn't really date. He's kind of… a natural actor. He does this to please the fans as well as to piss off his family.' The responses were not exactly passionate, so extra steps were taken to spice things up. 'Actually, a few days ago, Sirius showed up in the café I work in –' there was a round of jealous gasps – 'and I asked him about Remus. He closed off immediately. I could see that. I said sorry I didn't want to offend him, and he apologised back and said he was overreacting. Anyway, I got the signature I wanted (it was on a napkin) but the topic of Remus was not mentioned again.'

'Oh my god, same!' A young man opposite her agreed. 'He didn't come to the last film meeting, remember? Said he had something urgent on hand on Twitter. But later, when my friend in Beijing saw him outside the hotel he lived in, and when asked about the film, which was such a success, he was totally not happy to talk about it.'

'Well then, it seems to me that, they're either dating, or something happened between them that they are more enemies than ever,' mused another girl. After a while she shrugged. 'Well it doesn't matter. Not to me, anyway. I've never really been a Remus fan.'

The woman in the wedding dress shook her head. 'That I have to disagree. My husband and I – well – not me so much, to be fair – but we think Remus is one of the best actors we've ever seen. The way he acts, it's as if he's really the character coming alive, even if said character is a vampire with magical abilities that doesn't really exist. Sirius though; he is also very good, of course. He's fresh, and he's got talent, I would say he's got the fire burning in him. I can see it. The boy is gonna come to great things…'

While she rambled on and on, Spandex took the opportunity to observed the people huddled at their table. Though masked, it was easy to guess their gender and age. The talking woman had revealed she had a husband, and just next to her sat a guy whose greying beard poked out from the bear-mask.

'… yet, to be fair, I think Remus is a better actor.' The woman's words dragged Spandex right back to earth. 'Yes, I know, we're Blackies (Spandex wasn't quite sure what to make of this nickname for Sirius fans), but I'm trying to be fair here. Sirius is great in the sense that he is a great actor. Remus is great in the sense that he is a great character. Sometimes I can tell that Sirius is acting on screen, like he's a bit contrived, y'know?'

'I don't know,' bear-guy sounded dubious, 'I mean, it's hard to really immerge yourself in a thousand characters without a piece of yourself slipping out sometimes. That's why not everyone is an actor. But Sirius is young, he'll get there someday. That I'm sure. Remus Lupin though…' He made a gesture to comb his hair only to realise he'd got a mask on. 'Is the guy really twenty-five? He doesn't look like it. Every time I look in his eye and I think I am staring into a thousand-year soul. It creeps me out, somehow.'

'I just don't like him,' declared a voice whose speaker was clad in tight leather jackets and trousers. 'He's shady. What do we know about him? Literally nothing. All we know is that, suddenly, one day, Remus Lupin is an actor that can ace any role. I think quite a number of Blackies just dislike the idea of Sirius dating him.' She turned and saw Spandex, who was just in the process of kicking back the stool and standing up. 'Oh, you're leaving already? It's still so early. By the way, I don't remember hearing you speak. Are you new? There's no need to be shy.'

Spandex was embarrassed that he was caught. 'Oh, oh. No, erm, just tired. I'm glad to have listened to you all. Sirius is my… favourite celebrity.'

She nodded. 'Woah. You sound a bit like Sirius. If your shoulders were broader I'd think maybe you were him. Are you a cosplayer? I hope you stay longer.'

Spandex stuck out his tongue. 'Aha, I don't think so, but thanks for the compliment.' He left quickly. When he finally took off the mask, greedily inhaling the clear night air, he squared his shoulders and straightened his back. A beam of streetlight reached across the alley, revealing the defiance edged on the delicate features of Regulus Black. He took a glance at the little bar he owned, where every now and then, parties and masquerades were held as the glitter of masks and costumes shimmered in and out of the thick iron door that separated the outside world from the world of charade within. But was there any difference between the outside and inside, when lies were all that shielded him – and people he cared about – from the haunting past?

* * *

People come and go, sadly it doesn't always work like that. Some people just refuse to leave. Regulus could feel it in his bones. He was standing outside a little café. Indecisiveness was not in his nature, but this was an occasion on which hardly any people could be half as calm as him. The café was full of people, the queue for cakes and bread was so long that it'd taken a few turns around the shop. The orning was wide, under which were clusters of tables and chairs. No danger of being immediately murdered, then.

'Lucius,' Reuglus greeted gracefully at the man in causal t-shirt and shorts, who was sipping a glass of orange juice as he skimmed through free newspaper provided by the café. There was the scent of expensive cologne that gave out the man's superior status despite his attire. Regulus picked up the scent not only because of his detective facilities, but because he was once a loyal customer of the brand.

'Regulus,' Lucius Malfoy drawled. 'How are you?'

Regulus smiled. All politeness and pleasantries. 'Couldn't be better. And you?'

'Not quite, to be honest.' Malfoy put down the newspaper, taking off his sunglasses. 'Not since you left us.'

_Exactly what I have thought he's come for._ But Regulus kept his thoughts strictly private. 'Oh? I'm afraid I don't quite understand you.'

'Of course.' Malfoy looked at him appraisingly. 'Mr Regulus Black, owner of Galaxy Investigative Agency, brother of famous actor Sirius Black, heir of the old Black family. Who would have thought he was formerly the right-hand man of the English Mafia?'

'Stop flattering me, there was no such thing. If anything, you were to take over throne of Godfather if the headquarters hadn't been compromised?'

'And you were long gone before that. How clever of you, Mr Black.'

Regulus looked up coolly. 'I was only ever involved with the Mafia simply because of my family. With the collapse of family business, and my parents' death, I have sold most of their properties to pay off the debts. The company and its reputation I have earned on my own; I have been reborn and relived as a new person. I'd appreciate it if you could spare me details of my old acquaintances who I have no concern for nor ability to support if at all possible, especially when the organisation is no longer a thing, and its members sent into prison one by one. I was lucky enough that I was not sentenced to jail as the only juvenile member and having family influence as a plea, but life after that hasn't been easy. I have enough on my plate already.'

Regulus's coffee arrived. Malfoy waited until the waitress was out of earshot: 'I appreciate your honesty, but I hope you'll consider my – _offer_ – after you hear what I have to say. It's a piece of good news that I've come to deliver, actually. The Mafia hasn't collapsed entirely. It is, in fact, ready to be assembled any time. Given your performance before, I think you will do very well in the new, refined Mafia.'

Regulus's hand gave an unnoticeable shake. 'I thought the Godfather was still in prison.'

'He?' Malfoy chuckled scornfully. 'He is, and he will continue to be until he dies. He was not careful enough; there wasn't anyone to blame but himself. I am different; I never leave any traces of me behind. Oh, has Narcissa mentioned? The Malfoys are now in control of 65% of the black market trades. That is a striking number. I must admit I am quite proud of it.'

'I haven't seen Narcissa since my father's death,' said Regulus in regard of his cousin, his tone icy.

'I'm sure she will be happy to meet you again.'

'And I'm sure I do not want such thing to happen.' He put down his mug, now empty, and was in the process of collecting his things when Malfoy said, 'Are you genuinely not afraid of what could happen to you if you refuse my offer?'

Regulus gave the first laughed since he entered the café. 'Is that the best threat you can come up with? Do you think I didn't collect any of your and our old friends' _traces_ before I left? And why is it that of all professions, I chose to be a private detective? Money doesn't come easy. If I hadn't dabbled in those sordid businesses before, I wouldn't have had all the knowledge at hand. Of course I know the boundaries; there were a number of times when I could've disclosed more than what was necessary but didn't.' He paused, and in a lower voice, with bitterness that he didn't mean it to be heard, he said again, 'It is with extreme care and caution that I survive in the gaps of the upper society and the underworld.'

'Very impressive,' said Malfoy, his expression blank. 'I'll assume this is a promise of your discretion on what we've discussed?'

Regulus shrugged. He was famous enough, though not half as much as Sirius, in the industry and in society in general. Remaining in the spotlight allowed him safety and freedom that would never have been granted if he had remained in the dark. Leading an open life (while keeping the necessary parts private) was like having thousands of guards around you so that if anything did happen, you wouldn't sink like a rock in the sea.

* * *

When Malfoy finally released him, the sun had long sunk below the horizon. Regulus slipped through crowds of people who were on their daily commute to home. After all these years, he still had the habit of only walking the busiest streets. Half an hour later, Galaxy Investigative Agency peeked between rows of bars and their neon light signs. it was a plain, one-storey office on the first floor of a grey building with a red sign hanging down from the door, the vintage door with glass panels arranged in a pattern painted red, a ring tinkled occasionally in the wind.

'Marion?' Regulus was quite surprised to see his assistant still in the office. 'Why, it's getting dark. Is that the Thompsons' file? Leave it to me, I'll finish it off.'

'Hiya.' Marion looked up from the mountain of files and documents with a look of mild surprise. 'Thanks, but it's not like I have anywhere to go.' She was humming a tune. It sounded a bit exotic, which reminded Regulus of the far East. 'Oi, Is that Lucius Malfoy's business card?'

Regulus slid the card in his pocket hastily. 'Who's that?'

'Haha, very funny,' she said, 'I recognise the dragon. It's the Malfoy Company logo.'

Regulus gave up. Marion had always been very sharp. He threw his hands up in the air. 'I met him on the way here, he gave me the card.' That wasn't completely false, to be fair.

Marion shrugged. 'We'd better not meddle with him. He has some shady background, doesn't he?'

_You have no idea_, thought Regulus. But still he said, 'You're right. Thanks.' He looked at the clock. The hour hand was pointing between eight and nine. 'Let's go to the lobster place at Leicester Square. I'm starving.' He was desperate to drop the subject, and he believed a substantial meal would work as some kind of medicine for stress. Marion's eyes wondered curiously on him. He pretended not to see it and quickly turned away to admire the views of the street. A man was riding a bicycle, and jogging behind him was a pretty woman. Their laughter was contagious; Regulus felt the corner of his mouth tugging up despite the gloom of the day.

Marion was still organising the files at the table. Regulus looked around; he was surprised to find how small and stuffy his office was. 'I'll wait for you outside,' he said politely, and off he went.

* * *

He had known Marion for as long as he remembered having a new life started. It hadn't been long before he opened his business, and he hadn't had a second assistance hence. They were both quiet and preferred working in their own ways, so there were rarely any words spoken in the office, yet they both found this style suited them, and it was a miracle that they worked seamlessly this way.

He remembered her stumbling into his office boldly one day, a young girl a year or two older than him. She introduced herself hastily in a shaken voice, her nervousness apparent, and asked if he needed an assistant. They weren't exactly friends; Regulus never told more than what was known of him, and Marion never said anything about herself except what could be seen from the outside. Regulus didn't even know if she was seeing anyone. He suspected she, like him, hadn't really got a family. Yet they'd spent countless nights together solving mysteries, figuring out crimes, putting puzzles together. For a period of time, the business was Regulus's chief means of spending time and energy; and it was with Marion, interestingly, that he had spent that time. It was as though they had a special connection no one but them in the world understood; it was as thin as a veil, but it was there. Even though she never said anything, Regulus had made a vow to himself he would never replace her with any other assistant.

As a result, he was rather lenient with rules at work. As long as she completed her tasks, she could come and go any time she wanted. It was in her absence that day when Sirius of all peopled called the first time after he left him, and Regulus was glad she wasn't here to see how dishevelled hearing Sirius had made him.

_'I need you to find out everything you can about Remus Lupin.' _Regulus almost burst out laughing when Sirius said it. If he were his younger self, and Sirius still with him, he would say with a poker face that was meant to make Sirius laugh: _do you know how funny you sound, Sirius? First, this is the thirtieth time someone has made a request like this this year. Second, I don't need to find out about Remus Lupin to give you a report. I know him as he is._

Well, maybe not quite. Events had taken an unlikely turn, and suddenly his goddamn brother was dating Remus Lupin. He had been dreading back , _something_ broke – at last – and they broke up, and Sirius was on his doorstep. Regulus then came to realise that there was still something he needed to find out about the person he had covered for half his life.

'You have requested discharge for Miss Hope Howell of ward 18D. Here is her personal information and yours, and the letter of authorisation by Mr Lupin, her son. Are all of these correct?'

'Yes,' said Regulus to the nurse at the reception.

'Please understand that once the patient is discharged, the institution will no longer be held responsible for her. You'll have to queue up again if you reapply for our service. I have to tell you though, a lot of people are waiting.'

'I understand. I'd like to see her before I take her away. My car is outside.'

'That's quite alright. Our van will take her and follow yours. This way, sir.'

'Thanks, I know the way.' Regulus smiled politely at the nurse, who looked like she wanted to accompany him to the ward in which Hope Howell was contained. To put it accurately, it was not a ward but a room among many in a chronic care institution. Caretakers and nurses ran about like the hands of a clock. Regulus could feel the curious glance the reception nurse shot him as he left for ward 18D, which was around the corner. He reached for the door, knocked, and when there was no answer, he pushed it open.

A woman lay lithely on the bed, a few infusion bottles hanging above her as solutions Regulus couldn't really name were delivered into her through tubes. She was almost bald, what left behind was grey, dull and thin. Patches of white scalp that was only a layer of skin stretched tightly over the skull was clearly visible. She stirred when Regulus came in, but her face – if it could be called a face at all, with burned patches of scarred skin in place of rosy cheeks and a lipless mouth, above which hung a nose and eyes that looked like they were there because God hadn't enough time to put together a proper human. He watched her for a moment and sighed.

'Hello, Mrs Lupin.'

He didn't expect a reply, of course. He started packing her things. There wasn't a lot to pack, just some pills and bottles and things. His four-seat Audi was waiting in the car park. He had just signalled the institution to get Mrs Lupin out when someone he least expected to see materialised in front of him, his arm crossed.

'Well, well, well. Here enters the big boss.' Sirius Black drawled, his grey eyes shining. As calm as Regulus's composure had always been, the drawstring bag he used to collect Mrs Lupin's things dropped to the floor as his hands gave a shake. Sirius continued, '— at the institution where the mysterious mother Remus claims he's been attending to. Oh dear, what does it have to do with my own brother? It's not like she's your mother-in-law.' Sirius meant to sound thunderous, but his throat tightened at his last remark, and bitterness swept him like waves. _She would have been, if Remus and I were married._ But then another voice drowned the former: _that is, if Remus does have a mother here after all._

'I'm surprised he even mentioned her,' was Regulus's level answer.

It seemed to rile up Sirius even more. 'Don't talk like you're the one who dated him!' He snapped, though he quickly recovered. 'I don't know, so far she's only a fictional character to me. I haven't even seen her in the flesh.' He peered at the fallen documents. 'Ah. Hope Howell. Not Hope Lupin. No wonder how the sharpest of journalists aren't after her.'

'You really have no idea, don't you?' Regulus sighed. 'Get in the car. This is no place for shocking revelations.' He revved up the engine, the van where Hope and her bed and everything that was connected to her were in followed suit. It was the second time they met after eight whole years Sirius ran away from home. And judging from Sirius's tone, as well as the mess on Regulus's plate, he'd got a lot of explaining to do. Clearly it wasn't the best time for family gatherings. Must fate unite them in such cruelty?

Not a word was spoken during their way to Regulus's place, but Regulus, who was driving, could feel the burning gaze of his brother on him without looking at the rear-view mirror, perhaps measuring him against the thin little boy in his memory – the extra inches were a certainly surprise as much to him as they were to himself; yet the equally handsome, but softer and less angular features were not.

He pulled up after some half an hour. Sirius peered around. 'Not Grimmauld Place?'

Regulus snorted. 'Sold, and still not enough to pay off father's debts.' He instructed Sirius to stay in the car, himself getting off first to arrange for Mrs Lupin. A nurse, Karen, and his family servant, Kreacher, were waiting at the door. When Kreaher's treacherous eyes met Sirius's, they were alight with malice.

'You're more well off than I imagined,' Sirius said in a clipped voice. 'And weirdly enough, I think I've seen this place before.' It was a little house, but a house still. There were two floors, the ground floor comprised only the living room and the kitchen. Regulus answered without looking back. 'Kreacher has nowhere to go. I am his only family.' He wasn't surprised when Sirius slammed a fist on the table, apparently annoyed.

'Can we get down to business already? Who exactly is –' he pointed at the room where Mrs Lupin had been transferred to, '- that woman, and why, of all people, are you with her?'

'I think I should ask you the same,' Regulus crossed his arms, 'her condition was supposed to be a secret. How did you find out about it?'

'I have my way, and that's none of your business.' Sirius's gaze was hardening. He took a few steps so that he was only inches away from his brother, who defied his towering presence by looking up with his steely grey eyes. 'Answer my questions,' Sirius half-growled as acid burned his heart, reminding him of wounds of a heartbreak. 'Who is she? What happened to her? Why are you here? – How do you come into all these? –_What_ is Re – Remus –? _Answer me_!'

Regulus did not cower. 'Perhaps,' he said, his voice raspy, 'if you had not abandoned us, if you had followed mother when her illness hit worse, you would know.' He turned on his heels so swiftly that Sirius's fist hit the air instead of his chin. He was breathing rapidly. Anger, confusion and humiliation mingling with the hurt that Remus was on the same side as his brother behind his back. And all this time he never said anything. Not when Sirius poured his heart out and told him about his family.

_Control yourself, Black. The game has just begun. _

* * *

If the world had turned backwards, upside down then back to normal in these few weeks, Sirius had no recollection of it. He had been working himself mad, accepting invitations after invitations, going on talk shows after another, and he had even answered a few questions from street paparazzi which he'd normally pretend not to hear. James invited him to tea a few times. Peter wanted him to buy camera lens with him, and he'd agreed pretty good-naturedly. If there was anything that had been different, it was that he was yet again leading a life without Remus.

He'd not been afraid of it before him. Being single – so what? But in the year that they were together, Sirius felt freer than he'd ever been. It was like his soul was lit, and his mind bloomed with ideas and heart filled with content. Remus looked at him the way he wanted to be looked: not the crazy expression burned with pure lust and desire, but with adoration, respect and faith, as though he believed him capable of picking the stars. When he was with Remus, silence was not frightening. The man was silence himself, but in the way that relaxed him. Now, the empty house was simply scary.

_Silence._ He punched the table so hard the teacups on it shook. It was with silence that Remus soothed his chaotic side and smoothed his rough edges, but it was also with silence that Remus singlehandedly buried a relationship that for once, Sirius could see it last and go into fruition. Instead of pouring his heart out, he hid it, and on top of it lay heaps and heaps of lies. Sirius's heart ached. He thought he had done enough – proved himself worthy of his trust – and to let it show, he had told him his darkest secrets –

And what now? Moody was very dear to him, and Remus knew that, but now it appeared to be only a tip of the iceberg of the story he never cared to tell. Deep down Sirius knew he was capable of overlooking the feud between Remus and his mentor who he didn't see very often anyway. He had always been selfish when necessary. Besides, it was not on him to judge what that made Remus, and whether he deserved forgiveness. But with a stabbing pain the black, skinless face of Remus's mother floated before his vision; and tending to her, instead of Remus, instead of_ himself_, was his brother. It made him jealous and guilty and disgusted all at once. That was a bigger betrayal than injuring Moody; that was a double betrayal. Who would had thought the brother that Sirius thought had lost, and who he moaned and talked and dreamed about, had been joining forces with Remus – the very person who Sirius thought could be trusted – behind his back?

Sirius was at once within and without. There was a spiderweb with everything connected, in the centre was himself, who was deeply involved with everyone but who was also the one without the faintest idea what was going around him. He could see himself going deeper and deeper into the muddy water, yet having no idea how deep he would go.

A magazine on the carpet caught his attention. It must have fallen when he slammed onto the table, for it was crumpled and layered with dust. It lay pitifully, its fragile wings were dotted with oil stains and greenish black spots – typical of a magazine full of bullshit, issued by the batty Xenophilius Lovegood. But what made Sirius squint was that picture with Remus and a little boy who he had thought was himself. It was already suspicious that he had no memory of ever knowing Remus before. Now, as Regulus presented himself – could it be…?

What happened between Remus and Regulus needed to be found out. Going straight to them was not an option, for both of the R's are tight-lipped as hell. Fortunately, Sirius knew enough people. He took out his phone.

'Marion, I need you to give me the address of Xenophillius Lovegood.'

She sounded alarmed. 'The local magazine editor?'

'Yes.'

'I see,' her voice was light, the unspoken question clear: _does this have anything to do with our investigation?_Instead she said, 'Do you need me to visit him for you?'

'Thank you, but I can manage it myself. Lovegood knows me.'

'Good. Any new discoveries? I have been going through the hundreds of pages on the internet about him. Found nothing of real substance, needless to say.'

'… not at the moment. But I think Lovegood, being the nosy editor as he is, may know something about him.' There were clicking sounds, Sirius imagine she was sitting in her office, a large computer screen before her. Then she added casually, 'Did you go to the institution?'

'Oh, yes. I went there, but someone else picked her up earlier.' He didn't know why he was not telling the truth, but he felt like he needed some time, maybe after the shock subsided, and then he would relay to her Mrs Lupin's situation.

'I see. When I was there, I didn't even get to confirm her identity. They had excellent security, and I didn't get the name right. I suppose being Lupin's ex got you some insights? What name was she under?'

Sirius mumbled something unintelligible. Luckily Marion didn't seem to pay attention to that. It was as though she was simply too happy that Sirius got a new lead. She spoke quickly like a bird chirping. At last she added, 'Good luck with your visit, but do be prepared that what you will hear are simply lies.' A pause, and: 'Don't forget to tell me about it.'

For a moment, he had wanted to spill to her everything about his previous encounter with Regulus. But Marion had hung up swiftly, leaving Sirius with only the beeps of the phone that slowly fell out of sync with his increasingly erratic heartbeat. He had no idea whether it was the excitement of checkmating his brother, the thrill of revenge, or the unease of truths he was going to unveil.


	11. Chapter 11

Xenophilius Lovegood looked exactly like how Sirius remembered him. Eccentric as ever, his silver hair was tousled, and he wore a tweed jacket so long that it reached his knees. But there was a spark in his eyes that gave his excitement away, as would many people when Sirius Black were on their doorsteps.

'Have a seat, Sirius… Have a seat…' Lovegood swept away the books and paper on the sofa (if that could be called a sofa at all). 'Tea?'

'Yes, thank you,' said Sirius, at the same time looking around the house. It had taken him an hour from London to here, a little cottage tucked in the green of the hills, and in the little garden were rows of freshly watered sunflowers. The inside did not match the outside though; while there was sunshine and clouds and breeze in the garden, the inside was grim air and dust as the house owner was evidently inadept at household cleanliness. If it wasn't for Lovegood's wild smile, Sirius would have had the feeling that he was not welcome here.

'I don't get visitors a lot these days,' Lovegood said after he handed Sirius a chipped mug, perhaps sensing Sirius's discomfort. Steam rose from the hot tea, thickening into a white curtain before dissipating to give view to Lovegood's beard. 'My girl Luna grew the roses and dried it herself, by the way.' He indicated the tea.

'That tastes very well. I haven't drunk tea as fresh as this for a long time.'

'Please call me Xenophilius. If you like, I can give you these little pots as well. I added red brick crumples and a little vinegar. I have looked into how the ancient Chinese grew their roses, it gave me the idea to experiment a bit.'

'That sounds very interesting indeed. Perhaps we can go to the Botanical Garden together some time. I just –'

He was yet again interrupted. Lovegood was grinning from ear to ear. 'I have been to that many times with little Luna. Her friend's mum is keeper there. We got annual tickets for free, you know? Her mum is so kind that I am allowed to visit the special section where only staff is allowed entrance. It prompted issue 175 of _The Quibbler_. Did you have a read?'

'Xenophilius,' Sirius decided to dive straight in, but when that achieved none the effect he expected – 'Xenophilius. _Mr Lovegood_.'

'Yes?' Lovegood looked like he just got roused from a deep slumber. 'Is the tea…?'

'No, no. It's all good. It's for this that I've come to visit,' Sirius pulled out the magazine and flipped to the page with his childhood photo, which he dog-eared. 'I read the other sections, they were all brilliant, needless to say – but this is what interests me the most.'

Lovegood's countenance changed at once. He almost jumped, and Sirius had to get his arm lest he fell and hurt himself. 'That – that was very long time ago –? I told Luna not to put that in – anyway, that was on public property. I had every right to photograph what I could see in the streets.' He was almost going to pull his beard. 'I don't – I don't suppose you've come to sue me?'

'No, no, not at all. I think you misunderstood my intentions. It has nothing to do with the laws and all. In fact, I'm grateful that you took this picture and published it. What I would like to know is – if you remember – could you tell me where you took this particular picture? It doesn't have to be exact. Just a rough location will do. Let's say, East London.'

'Why?' Lovegood shot a wary glance at him. 'I walk around all day. I won't remember where I took this. You should know better than anyone where this was shot.'

'Are you sure this is me? No mistakes? My face – I mean, the boy's face – is in the shadow. I can't say I remember this very well.'

'Don't remember! Ha! Of course. I'm not surprised!' Lovegood sounded indignant. 'Celebrities like you don't remember a lot of things and people. 'Course. My Luna got your signature some months ago after queuing for 3 hours. Can you point her out? There – see my little Luna?'

Sirius acknowledged a girl with dirty blonde hair and protuberant pale eyes in the picture. As he did so, he kept trying to distract Lovegood from his gibberish to little avail. When Lovegood finally did address the question, his answer was a very disappointing one: 'I must say, Sirius, I don't keep a diary of where I do my photography. It was a very, very long time ago. I haven't the foggiest where this took place. Over the course of my career, I have followed the footprints of hundreds of celebrities. Many remarkable things about them are imprinted in my brain – your handsome face and excellent acting, for example – others, I let them go. These are wretched things to remember when Luna needs me to help her revise, you know? Pardon the rusted brain of an old man.'

Sirius literally got dragged out of the house. It was a peculiar feeling, and it reminded him of times when he was just a little child, a little older than eleven, young enough to still be under his parent's reign and old enough to question their morals. His mother – rarely his father, for he was too neck deep in his business – always had to pull, or push him, with her spindly fingers and cold sharp nails, to get him to whatever places she ordered him to be.

It wasn't a good feeling to have a door shut in the face, and it was not until he was in bed that night that he realised he had asked nothing about Remus Lupin. He stretched to reach his phone on the nightstand. How easily it was done without having to reach across another person sleeping tight next to him was a painful reminder of his loss. But he'd been learning to adapt, and his effort was not totally futile. Was Remus Lupin only ever just a concept? He had been a rival, a sore in the eye during shooting, a sweetheart, and, for the most of the time, a barbed rose which Sirius had been careful to protect but not brave enough to caress. He'd been so scared to touch on whatever Remus wasn't happy about that he'd made 90% of their relationship centre around himself. And because Remus was not naturally as vocal as himself as well as to guard his secrets, he went along with the imbalance. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Remus he dated was merely an illusion he created for himself – who was lonely, desperate for love and looking for challenges. Remus was sure one hell of a challenge to tackle. It was hard to say who played who in the end.

The bright white screen of the phone captured his drifting attention. The long night ahead would have been another night of melancholy brooding had it not been Regulus's message:

_We need to talk. Come tmr. _

* * *

While Sirius had always been all fire and energy, Regulus was the exact opposite – icy, cold, quiet. The last memory of Sirius hugging his crying little brother and telling him not to worry could only be retrieved with some difficulty, as age and experience had quite washed off the innocence of their early years. Yet when Sirius saw him the next day, in the same house where Mrs Lupin were temporarily taken from the institution, he immediately detected signs that spoke of some dark, unknown emotions that he associated only with Grimmauld Place. But it had been so long ago, and he had been under James's parents' wing for so long that he had forgotten he was once just the same with secrets and all the hopes of the family deeply buried within him.

He detected a grimness instantly as soon as he met Regulus, who was wearing a black shirt, his pale arms came down from the neatly rolled up sleeves like finely carved marble, the blue veins ran smoothly beneath the half transparent skin. His hair was unusually tousled today. It came as a surprise to Sirius that it was a little bit curly, like Remus's.

_Traiter. Traiters. Both are traiters. _

'Yes?' Sirius crossed his arms. Regulus didn't speak. He only raised his left hand. A key dangled from his slender fingers. Upon closer examination – closer in the sense that Sirius squinted without touching it or taking a step forward – he concluded that there was nothing remarkable about the key except that ' L' was engraved on it.

Cleary, Regulus did not share the same thought. 'Does it ring a bell to you?' he asked tersely.

'No.'

Regulus set his head decidedly so that his face was in the shadow. 'Of course.'

'Who…?' Sirius gesticulated blankly until the cogs in his brain started rolling: 'Cowell… Cowell – _Howell_ –' Something in him started to click. He _had _heard this name before, but where? – He was wading through a half-frozen stream; he was walking out of a heavy haze; he was opening the dusty curtains of an abandoned mansion – until his mind settled on the young face of Regulus, on the very old grounds of his family house.

He opened his mouth finally. 'Surely you don't mean…?' He thought of his parents' connection: it explained the uneasiness and the vaguely familiar air of grimness. Some important figure, who had long risen to power, so long that even Sirius had heard of him – his name was Cowell. Regulus nodded, seeing that they were both on the same page.

'It's just too much of an coincidence,' Regulus said in a tight voice. 'though I've never seen Cowell in the flesh – actually, not any one of the Big Four under the Godfather – Gritzlow, Islington, Cowell and Bogatzky have I been in personal contact with. Lucius Malfoy, our friend, was Gritzlow's best. Of the four, Bogatzky was first killed, and his body was never found except his right arm. Islington defected and was caught before he set off. Only Gritzlow remained loyal until the end, though no one can say for sure if it was because he wanted to seize the throne. I was very luckily shielded from all these as I remained on the outside of the inner circle. Mother always asked me not to go too far in… I see now that she wanted to protect me.' Sirius snorted at this, which earned him a hard glance from his brother. 'But I thought… I thought they were all men. I thought they were either captured or dead.'

'Cowell is quite a common name in the UK. It's just a coincidence that her maiden name happens to be Cowell. Or not. Maybe it's only Howell.' Sirius looked subconsciously at the corridor that led to the care room, and then the horribly burned face floated before his eyes, making him sick. Because of Regulus's ambiguous identity, no coincidence should ever be looked over without alertness and a sharp eye. And then there was the big question which had been left unanswered: _why _and _how _did Mrs Lupin end up being like this? This was key to all the mysteries, with that, maybe that could explain what happened to Remus too.

'No… but the age is not right…' Regulus was muttering to himself, his tone grave and there was a slight quiver to it. 'The Big Four has risen to power for at least 40 years. She is at most 50. It is a bit ridiculous to say that any of the Big Four was just 20 years old when they were the Godfather's most powerful men.'

'I thought you knew everything about… Remus,' Sirius said hesitantly. It slowly dawned on him why Remus and him were meant to part ways. They were never meant to walk the same path; between them were on one side the rules and laws of civilisation, the other the blood and killings of the underworld that he thought he had truly, utterly left behind.

'_Wait_.' Except that he hadn't. Yet this time, he didn't walk into it willingly. He was manhandled into murky waters – Regulus called him up and told him to come here. An ominous feeling arose within Sirius, and his voice was sharp like a knife as he whipped around to face Regulus. 'Why are you telling me all this? I thought we cut off all ties.'

Regulus was expressionless at first. He simply stared at Sirius for a long time, the light grey eye of his seemed to be asking _really?_ Neither of them moved or spoke as though they had turned into rocks. Then – someone pressed the play button – and the corner of Regulus's mouth turned up sneakily, and, at last, into a sly smile. It was in that moment that Sirius knew he fucked up, _again_. He never was his brother's rival when it came to trickery. And in the pit of his stomach, there was something so heavy he suspected it was his conscience weighing on him.

'Well, I just thought we could work together on this. Correct me if I'm wrong.' When Sirius kept his silence, Regulus simply shrugged. 'Besides, I would still need you to collect my shroud, if it comes to it.' There was a pause. And then, 'Here's the deal: I'll tell you everything about your dear ex-boyfriend – everything, from beginning to end – if you agree to be partners on this.'

The house was still. Tension rose; the great clock was ticking behind them as they shot daggers at each other, Regulus goading, daring him, and Sirius furious at having stepped into a set trap, and at his own inability to resist curiosity and the desire to slap Regulus hard. 'Fine,' he said through clenched teeth at last, his voice gruff. 'Tell me everything, right now. I'll beat the shit out of you – and Lupin, if he dares to come up to me again – you'll see –'

'Release me first,' Regulus demanded. Sirius froze. He looked down to find his finger digging onto Regulus's shoulder. He stepped back promptly. No one stirred, but they were felt like two beasts circling each other, waiting for the chance to attack. At last, Sirius swallowed his anger and put on a more placating expression. He still needed practice to keep calm. 'You said I would have known if I had stayed. Start from there – No, start from when we were children – explain this picture.' He took out Lovegood's magazine. 'Don't tell me this was not you because the whole world thinks it's me, but I swear on my life I don't remember having ever befriended him before.'

'It wasn't me,' was Regulus's careful response after scrutinising the picture. 'I don't recognise the place, either.'

'How come…?'

'Where did you get it from?'

'_The Quibbler_. Xenophilius Lovegood is the editor.'

'That explains everything, doesn't it? He is just a lunatic with some luck. Do you honestly believe that bollocks he writes? I dare say it's photoshopped just to get you and Remus in the same frame. The rumours were juicy, you know,' said Regulus dryly.

'Not as juicy as the history between you and him, don't you agree?'

'Are you _jealous_?'

Sirius's chair screeched against the dark wood floor. 'Are you going to tell me or not?'

'Then don't tell me where to _start_, brother.' Regulus folded his arms, and they both leaned back a little. It was their own way to signal a truce. 'It all comes back to mother's illness. Even before you left, she was always having morning coughs, and sometimes she was so tired she needed a sleep-in for the whole day. We all thought it was just regular flu, and so did the family doctor. And then you ran to the Potters' –

Sirius hid his face in his hair – 'and father was dead not a few months after, mother was all worn down. There were also symptoms that were previously unseen, and she started talking nonsense. Sometimes she took me for you and shouted things.'

The things must be horrible, Sirius thought. He couldn't imagine what Walburga could have said behind his back. Or could she have missed him? He would never know, because Regulus decided not to elaborate.

'I had to enrol her into an asylum, but we were pretty broke by then. Father died before his debts were cleared, the Mafia collapsed, and people came to us – but how were we to manage that? Finance was never mother's job, she only ever had to deal with us, the family face and reputation. I became the new heir, but the real power rested in mother's hands, who, though clever and had a natural knack for convincing people to do what she wanted, did not run the business for long before we were finally declared broke.

'We got some money from Uncle Cygnus. He gave us enough to support a temporary living, and more importantly, mother's hospitalisation. But even that wasn't our biggest worry. It was the enemies we made during the Mafia's days. Going to an asylum was not only for mother's sake, it would also provide us a temporary shelter as long as we kept everything in secret. As for Cygnus, we didn't hear any more from their family after that as well as many family friends. They simply disappeared. We were deserted, avoided, spoken of as though we were some deadly plague. I suspect Cygnus knew we needed a place and simply gave us the money to save the family face. Family, family, family. That's all they ever care about.'

'They just wanted out, maybe,' Sirius said dimly. 'They would want a new life too.'

'I heard Andromeda's doing pretty well. I don't blame her,' Regulus shrugged, 'the Malfoys though – they're the real rogues. We Blacks are the dying branch of a big tree, but I could see the Malfoy's are still going strong. Anyway, I took Cygnus's money and put mother in the best institution I could find. I did not expect they give us a double room where I met another woman and her son. She seemed to be a little younger than mother – I couldn't tell because she was so severely injured. Her son was only a year or two older than me.'

He then seemed to fall into a long trance, for he did not speak for a very long time. Sirius could see in his eyes how he looked back on what was supposed to be the darkest times in his life with the fondest memories. Sirius remembered reading the news, _The Fall of the House of Black, _and occasionally, reports of how Regulus was seen as a waiter at a restaurant, or a trainee at a bakery, all while he started to rise to stardom.

At the same time, Regulus recalled how, as he said while he was dressed as Spandex, Remus Lupin was the one who gave him hope when he had nothing else but an ailing mother. They were both poor, their mothers prisoners of their mental illness, and no one would walk by without casting them glances of pity, which were not so well received by the both of them, either because they were too proud, or too fed up with any more pity. Remus was skinny and shorter than average boys of his age, and the scars and bruises he could hardly hide. Regulus was _not_ as skinny, but the enormous reduction in food and the general quality of life did put him a size down.

Although Regulus had Cygnus's money, life was not easy. It was then he developed the habit of looking down at the road whenever people approached lest they recognised who he was. Remus had nothing, so he had to work to support himself. He did _everything_, and Regulus accepted his behaviour without question because he understood perfectly that desperate times call for desperate measures. Sometimes Remus picked pockets. Sometimes he did things with the local gang. Sometimes he brought Regulus out to make some quick money. Sometimes he came back all bloodied because he got caught stealing, or because he did not steal enough and the other children in the gang beat him up. It was how he got his scars. Regulus remembered a particularly large gash across his nose which nearly scratched his eye, and his shoulder was dislocated.

'It's nothing, really,' Remus waved a worried Regulus away, biting his lip as he swallowed a groan. 'Police turn a blind eye as long as you don't make too much trouble. If things get out of control you just have to lie low for a bit. Bread?'

Regulus accepted the half loaf of bread and munched on it. 'I _know._'

Remus pushed him lightly and let out a quiet laugh. He was a bit shy at first, like a puppy curious of everything but was scared to ruin the peace and quiet, but there was a glitter in his eye that hinted at his natural talent at pulling pranks. 'Your parents took care of you when you dealt with your old friends. It's all rules and leaders and stuff. Now you're on your own, you just have to play dirty, sometimes.'

Regulus thought this would go on forever. He had not a single idea how what he would do in the future, because how could he, when there wasn't even a future to speak of? But it finally happened: Mrs Black died. Even Mrs Lupin, who had been silent for as long as Regulus knew her as her vocal cord was damaged, seemed to be particularly quiet today. There was less movement, less turning and tossing, and less intelligible murmuring. Perhaps she, too, was sorry that her wardmate of years, had to leave her young son forever. And because there was no remaining family, Mrs Black was cremated quickly. A jar of her ashes was all that Regulus had of her. He would have to clear her things away that afternoon since the bed would have to go to the next person in line. Places were tight for the beds.

'What do I do now?' Tears rolled down Regulus's face. Those were not merely tears of grief but tears of knowing you'd be all alone hereafter. 'What do I do without you?'

Remus was silent for a while. 'You just have to go on.'

'But how?'

'Be a different person. Those jerks thought this would be the end of you. Show them you're more than that.'

'I don't know…'

'You sure do, you're hella smart!' Remus was rarely so passionate, and no one had ever praised Regulus like this before, not even his parents. They blushed at the same time, and Remus scratched his head, apparently embarrassed. But he finally mustered the courage to go on, 'I say… go get a proper part-time job. Get yourself in school. Go to uni. Live a new life as if your first fifteen years never happened. See the world from a more down-to-earth perspective… life doesn't end just here. You'll have more friends along the way. They'll surely teach you more things than I can tell you now.' He was still doing that embarrassed grin.

Regulus sensed a farewell. His throat tightened. 'How about you?'

'I still have her,' Remus said quietly. Regulus noticed the thin layer of stubbles starting to come out on his chin and above his lips. He was a big boy now. How many years had he spent at this damned place where the only people you met either howled gibberish or talked only to themselves?

Remus straightened his back. Regulus did too, and Remus laughed. His hand moved steadily from the tip of his head over to Regulus's, and it rose two inches directly above Regulus's dark hair. A grin broke over his tear-stained face. He always did that when they were skinny little boys. There had been a time when Regulus could look him eye to eye without having to stand on his toes.

'You see, I've been working hard all these years,' Remus continued. 'I am no longer in the gang. No more stealing, no more burning down people's backyards. No more beating people up for no reason. I'm trying all different sorts of things. One day, I'll make something of myself. You'll see.'

Regulus took a step forward. His heart was throbbing in his chest. 'Why don't you – perhaps you can just – I –'

'I can't. I have a _colourful _history, and I'm not cold-hearted enough to leave my mum behind,' Remus grinned again, but bitterness seeped in between his brightly lit features. 'I don't even qualify to sit the GCSEs. I guess … I'll just find a way out other than studying. We'll meet again, Regulus. There's a book I read – it says human paths are circular. And I kind of agree. They cross more than just once. For now, we should say goodbye. We'll only work hard enough if we tell ourselves that we have no one out there to back us up.'

So Regulus worked his way up, got into uni, built a network and founded a company. He had kept an eye on the news all this time, and was particularly alert whenever Sirius was mentioned – '_How's he doing?'_ was not an uncommon question in his mind. But more often than not, he hoped to see another name, a name which he'd been promised to hear and, if lucky enough, to call again. He was resolved not to look into his _sources _for that name; he would do it for any other names, anything his clients requested and anything his mind took an interest but not Remus Lupin. It was as though there was a solemn oath that had been made without being spoken_._

The world changed fast; suddenly there was an extra popping in every shooting to volunteer to play as insignificant as a passer-by; suddenly there was a genius called Remus Lupin and singlehandedly boosted a small-budget film to the highest point of the box office record. Regulus watched him rose like a shooting star into something so far away from his reach. When he dodged people here and there, and always picked the less busy roads to walk so that he didn't run into former acquaintances, Remus's posters were plastered everywhere; people literally worshipped him. There were a few times Regulus was tempted to make a call, go to fan meetings, _look him up_ – but who was he to him? And so what if they met again? The point was, Remus did what he said he would, years ago, just like what they had promised each other, and Regulus did it, they both fulfilled a promise to each other as well as to their own selves. It was pointless to dig out, much less relive the past especially when there was nothing glorious about it. They had both become a _different_ person, led a _different _life, and everything was otherwise perfect. Nostalgia is the emotion of the weak. If today was the fruit of the seed they planted so many years ago, then why should they pluck whole plant just to see if the seed was still there?

And then one day, Remus's name appeared hand in hand with his brother's. And then, when Regulus did come into contact Remus again, it was the rotten core of the fruit they both thought was big and sweet and ready to pick.


End file.
